Transformation and Revelations: A Dawn from the Dark
by theleftywriter
Summary: Nate Kaats, 16, is surviving through sophomore year amid a bleak case of depression. Not even the threats of world war blitzing his home country of America fazes his dark sentiment. After a vicious Friday, he passes out, waking up to find himself alongside a timid Snivy...as an Axew. What's his task? Save whatever sent for him? RATED T FOR MILD THEMES, LANGUAGE, VIOLENCE, BLOOD.
1. Another Day

**A/N: Many of you may find the first few chapters to be slow, considering that nothing actually happens that's even related to Pokémon whatsoever! If it's an issue, you CAN skip to chapter three, where the Pokémon story begins (and to get a feel as to how the story will actually turn out), but I highly recommend everyone to read the first two chapters, where the main character's attributes are described. I know that approx 10k words of that is tough to sit through, but I had to be as thorough as possible. If I failed to do so, please leave a review. It is, after all, one of my first major pieces of writing...ever! I need ALL the help I can get!**

**This will loosely follow the plot of _Gates to Infinity_, but I'm going to try to change it up a lot for the sake of entertainment. Because that game's plot isn't exactly the best game to novelize...**

**"example" = Dialogue**

**_italics_ = Emphasis, wispy/slurred/stressed voice (something like "_ssss_" is not hissing, but slurring); thoughts...for the most part. Some thinking will be given without italics, given the nature of my first-person writing style. Italics may also be used for journal entries, texts in-story, and the like.**

**I use ellipses A LOT...only in the name of realism. Ellipses may mean that time is passing, that someone has an interrupted/obstructed thought process/dialogue process, or that the one using them is pondering over something. You will probably, in that sense, find more ellipses here than anywhere else, in order to produce an effect.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon in any way, shape, or form. I also do not own any brand or model names and their respective companies that produce the said names. The purpose of the work is solely for entertainment purposes, not for monetary gain. The events portrayed in the story are completely fictional; if a situation is to rise as to match the said event, it is purely coincidental. At the time of writing, a "World War III" event had not yet happened.**

**Finally..._please_ pay attention to literary devices used. Yes, it's a nightmare from your English class all over again...but those things allow for plots to get deeper, events to get more interesting, and, collectively, to make the story _much_ more enjoyable. You might or might not have to look up a few things, possibly including literary devices, to get the full effect...but I have designed it so it is, hopefully, still a good read to someone who just reads stuff for the heck of it while understanding most of it. Enough of the author's note. Let's get to it!**

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_"Insight comes, more often than not, from looking at what's been on the table all along."_

_— David McCullough_

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_Part I_

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I am woken from the droning sound of my alarm clock. The sound was not quite loud enough to open my eyes upon sounding off, but the continuous sound of the alarm was annoying enough to wake me up. Thus, the clock did its job. I opened my eyes to near darkness, with the only light coming from slivers of the morning light slipping through my window into the room. I turned my heavy head on my firm pillow so I could see the digital display of the clock. The clock read 6:08 A.M., eight minutes late of the alarm's designated start time of six o'clock.

With a sigh, upset to get up that early in the morning so regularly, I slowly reached my hand over to the half-oval shaped clock, illuminated by the fluorescent yet soft white light of the digital display. Once my hand was near the clock, I felt the very bottom quarter of the clock, trying to feel my way to the 'Power' button. Starting from the first button, I felt along the button module. I felt one crease, indicating the start of a different button, then another crease. Once my fingers had crossed that second crease, I depressed the button my seeking fingers had made their way to. Upon taking that action, the electric sound of the alarm was silenced, giving way to the morning chorus of bird chatter in the towering trees outside of my window.

I cleared the comfortable quilts from my body and sat up in the bed. Half-heartedly, I swung my feet over the top of the bed to contact the floor. I stood up and carefully navigated myself around the numerous leaves of paper scattered about the bedroom floor. As I managed to escape the labyrinth of paper without crushing a single important document, I reached for the brass doorknob. I turned the knob and pulled the old wooden door open. I walked through the new passageway and head for the bathroom not more than a few yards out of the uncovered doorframe.

As I walked towards the room, I kneeled down to a laundry basket in the hallway to pick up a soft cotton body towel. I straightened myself back to a vertical position and reached the bathroom. I walked in the open door of the bathroom and closed the door behind me. I flicked on the light switch, flooding the room in light. I sighed. It's the only facility in the depressing house that actually offers the care for a tiresome self. And thus began the day; April 11, 2014.

After the refreshing, hot shower, I began to feel more and more energy restore my once groggy consciousness. As soon as I dressed myself in some typical, stereotypical American Eagle clothes, I trudged through the dark living room into the lit up kitchen. Thinking nothing of the dawn's light shining fiercely through the kitchen windows, I instinctively headed for some Mini-Wheats. I opened a white-washed, wooden cabinet to reveal nearly bare shelves, except for a box of the cereal lying horizontally on the middle shelf. Upon picking up the box, however, no weight of a bag holding the food deceived the presence of any cereal. My face curled to form a slight frown as I tossed the box from where I stood into the black trash can on the far side of the kitchen.

I walked over to the front of the white fridge. There was a magnetic pen attached to the fridge, right next to a piece of paper stuck on the fridge with numerous names of items scrawled on it. I took the pen and scrawled a new name on the list: "Mini-Wheats." I re-attached the magnet of the pen back on the fridge and frowned even further at the endless list, named "Shopping List." I don't know what I was doing. I thought that, maybe mom would actually go shopping and pick some of these things up. But with her gone in New York City for lawyer work, and with my dad out in Japan doing whatever the heck he does there, it was doubtful that any of these items were going to be picked up from the store. All I could do was hope; hope for the miraculous chance that my parents would come home soon.

Disgruntled, I headed to the kitchen sink and took my green toothbrush and some minty toothpaste. Soon, I was haphazardly brushing my teeth. Stepping into some nearby Reebok shoes without socks on, I finished my brushing. I spit out the toothpaste and replaced the brush back on the plastic green counter top. I strode back to my room to pick up my Swiss Army backpack with almost nothing in it and headed to the living room for the last time that morning.

As I headed for the front door, I stopped next to the marbled fireplace and checked the mantle. I saw my keys resting on the mantle, and I snatched them up, continuing my journey to the front door. I opened both aluminum alloy doors to get outside. I closed the doors behind me, twisted the knob to confirm they were locked, and turned to take a gander at the world.

I felt a brisk morning air greet me, but my Am. Eagle tee is enough to keep me from shivering in the cold weather. Otherwise, it was going to be another perfectly clear, sunny day. I jumped down the three great steps of the stoop to touch down on the concrete pathway and jog over to my car. My trusty pre-owned 2003 Ford Mustang looked as good as it did the day before: A red car dinged and dented from its previous owner. There were so many of these imperfections on the aging car that I could never keep count of them all. I used my keys to unlock the front door and tossed my backpack into the back seat without care. I slammed the front door shut and shoved the car's key into the ignition. I turned the key sideways and the engine turned over and started on the first try! What a rarity for that to happen!

I changed gear from park to reverse and backed out of my driveway into the side road leading out of the suburb. As I backed out onto the street, I glanced at the house once. It was normal; just how it looked yesterday. Its oblong shape with yellow siding was still in good condition. After that, I threw the Mustang's gear into drive and drove away to start the great race to school. I checked the car's digital clock display: 7:15 A.M. School started at eight, and it was a thirty minute drive from here to there. And to top it all off, I was hungry. Perfect.

I love to hear the subtle hum of the Mustang's engine in the morning. It's a relaxing, sobering sound that never fails to snap me out of my everlasting, fickle attitude for a while. But the sound lasted only until I drove the car up to the intersection separating a side road from Verdun Avenue, a large artery of relentless traffic in this busy city of Galena. There, even at a distance, the chorus of the impatient vehicles' engines, with a pompous car horn here and there, drowned out the sound of the Mustang's engine. As I queued in the left turn lane behind about four cars, I reached my right hand from the rubber grip of the steering wheel to the car's outdated radio control. Upon turning on the radio, the station number, 97.9 FM, flashed onto the clock display in white characters.

Soon after, my ears met the monotonous voice of a middle-aged, male news reporter. I cancelled out the sound through ignorance as the traffic signal suddenly changed from a red, solid light to a green arrow pointing to take the left turn onto Verdun. I quickly reset my right hand onto the steering wheel, caught off guard by the signal change. Because of the change, I was unable to silence the reporter's voice by turning the volume dial all the way down; I was too occupied driving at that point. I made the left turn, still ignoring the lame reporter's voice, and aligned the Mustang in the right lane on Verdun. As I depressed the gas pedal to get the car to go faster, the reporter's voice went up half an octave, introducing a new topic. This change in sound derailed my mission to ignore the boring reporter, and I ended up listening in to what he had to say.

"The enemy force, "World Rebellion," has secured Iceland and looks to the Americas, specifically the United States," he announced calmly. That, my friends, is what makes a day exciting.

The World Rebellion is a force made up of many people from various countries in Europe and areas in Russia who want a worldwide republic, called "Le Republique du Monde." The uprising started when the Euro Zone economy collapsed, resulting in the demise of every countries' national bank. The following bankruptcies of national governments sparked riots everywhere on the continent, much like the Greek riots in late 2011. At that point, it was only a matter of time before the riots festered into an organized uprising.

What started with running into armories with no weapons grew into the formation of massive armies. And with several armories stormed, the well-equipped rebels started to take city after city after city. These led to more and more non-rebels turning into rebels. Air bases were captured, giving the rebels an air force. Then went the capitals: Warsaw, Berlin, Paris, London, Madrid; everything. The countries resisted, but could not hold the fired-up rebels from capturing their capitals. They came to especially fear their air force: Russia had given them several Su-39 model aircraft, aka "Frogfoot." Not to add to that, but the rebels' tanks were brutal as well. There was no way Europe was going to stop the force. And now, the massive air force had been sortied successfully in Iceland, and any resistance put up by Iceland was snuffed out in a matter of weeks. Because of that position, they could easily bomb the East Coast and go from there. And maybe, just maybe, God forbid, but we could see nukes fall on our capital in a few weeks; maybe days.

As soon as the report was announced, the news report concluded wholly, returning the program back to the real reason why I had turned on the radio in the first place: Contemporary rock. As I maintained direction and speed of the car, not more than two minutes from the school at this point, my mind began to wonder. I wondered if my mom would be home to comfort me, to calm me from the developing situation. I wondered if my dad would be home to be together as a family, like everyone _would_ do in a time of crisis like this. That's what a decent family would do, right? It's what any standard, typical, run-of-the-mill family would do. And at that point, my wondering gave way to the harsh reality of the situation.

That would never happen…never! My parents were out in the world, likely having the best time of their lives. Like travel the nation to defend cases that weren't even winnable. Or go to Japan and have one hell of a time, I'm sure. Either way, they were away from me, which made it worthwhile to them. I was just a pawn in their life; a matter that could take care of itself. That's why I'm going mad, insane even. I can't go a day without thinking about them, only knowing that I will only get to see them, like, once a year. It's obvious!

I eventually got to the right turn into the school's student parking lot. I turned into the lot and slowed the car from forty to just a crawl at five. There, I saw row after row, wall after endless wall, of parked, motionless cars. I had to maneuver around in the narrow lanes of cars before I could find an empty cell. It was the cell furthest away from the school, but I didn't care. I slid the car in the cell, cramming it in between the adjacent car and curb. Once in the cell, I put the car's gear into park, and consequently took the keys out of the ignition. The engine's sound died, leaving me in a world of silence. The silence, that had been for so long my substitute for a family, could not harbor my gloomy emotion of hate and sadness. I was forced to cram those emotions away from my mind, leaving an empty mood ready to be shaped by the upcoming school day.

I reached back into the back seat, flailing my arm about to find my bag. I had to look back in order to find it, and I grabbed the feather-light bag and returned it to the front seat. I looked in front of me, outside the Mustang's cracked windshield, when I had the bag. I was greeted by the one of many red brick marquees: "Welcome to Southwest High School. Home of the Golden Bears." I took little other notice of the sign and opened the car door into the cold morning air, the same air I had felt when leaving my house.

As I walked through the east glass doors, red signs reminded me that the school was a drug free campus, as well as an "IB World School." Simply put, it's a school where really, really smart people go to. That would be me, I guess, but the program doesn't even seem to be designed for normal high schoolers. It seems more for maniacs, people who _want_ to spend their whole high school life completing mountain after mountain of homework. Well, I guess that would be me, too. I mean, I _am_ a maniac of sorts. But, I manage the homework fine on my own. It's not like I have anything better to do anyway, so I'm fine with it.

I opened another set of doors to get to the vast room called the commons. White brick surrounds the whole of the commons, with just the far side of the commons being the old fashioned red brick color. Magnificent sky lights supply the massive room with sufficient sunlight, paired with a few white fluorescent lights here and there. The sound of chatter was as loud as usual, possibly louder than the engine sounds on the Verdun. I passed the noisy commons quickly to get to a stairwell, where I ascended two flights to get to the third, top floor. As I peaked the steps, I made a U-turn around an adjacent wall on the left and walked down the long white corridor.

As I passed the several heavy wood doors protecting entrances to classrooms, I also passed several, small groups of students, all having grim looks on their faces. It could be because of how the Revolution was progressing; how America could be attacked in days by the deadly Frogfeet and/or nukes. Or, more likely, about all the homework they had to do, but happened to have this one subject they couldn't finish, preventing them from completing everything on their to-do lists. I have the same problem with Algebra II. I'm not going to do problem after problem of graphing hyperbolas, figuring permutations, and calculating radicals and irrational numbers. I stay up well past midnight every night, but not to do that kind of math. Regardless, I usually would get the homework done in the fifteen minutes I would have before class started _in_ the Algebra classroom. At least today was Friday: No Algebra until next Tuesday!

I walked not more than six feet past the sparse groups of smug-faced students when I saw the alcove on my right, overflowing with students who were either finishing their remaining homework assignments or talking about it, like usual. But I particularly like this part of the school because I can always find friends and classmates here. This way, I don't have to hunt them down. And sure enough, my friend Daniel approached me from a conversation near the alcove. He looked ready to engage in conversation with me. I happily obliged.

"Hola, Nate! How goes it?" Daniel said.

"Well, you know, surviving school," I replied with a sincere grin.

"Hear about the Revolution?" he asked, running his hand through his messy, black hair quickly.

"Of course! It seems to be everywhere on the news nowadays, with the massacre at Reykjavik. Scary stuff," I solemnly say.

The Reykjavik Massacre happened in the week before the capital handed over Iceland to the rebels. It was likely one of the worst non-genocide slaughters in recorded history. The rebel forces surrounded the city with troops and tanks alike, killing anyone who dared to escape the city. They shot down any leaving aircraft, commercial or military, with Javelins, Stingers, or the old-fashioned RPG-7. And, allegedly, the troops encircled hopeless and helpless citizens in the city square, and shot them all, granting no quarter whatsoever.

The process was repeated, over and over and over, until the Icelandic government surrendered to prevent any further needless murder. The death count is estimated to be at over 200,000 dead, but no one will ever be for sure; press outlets are prohibited in rebel-controlled territories. One thing is for certain, however: The city drowned in blood. The thought sent uncontrollable shivers down my spinal column. Maybe their cause isn't as righteous as they thought it would be.

"Can you imagine that? Tanks and planes storming New York, Boston, even D.C.!" said Daniel, with an edge of fright in his tone. The voice pierced through my recollection of the event, and I was forced to speak again, quickly.

"This is war, Daniel. Anything can happen," I responded. I took a gulp of saliva before adding, "And right now, it's looking probable that the war is coming to us."

"Do you think… do you think that the rebels would… attack Missouri?"

I thought about what he had said. Sure, if the rebels were looking for the highest amount of casualties as possible, they could set St. Louis and Kansas City aflame. But certainly not Galena… or would they? I mean, Galena is a fairly big town at about 75,000 residents, but certainly not as dense as Kansas City, much less St. Louis. But, with rebels being rebels, they could do anything they want. They could make the drive to take Washington and, consequently, the country of America, or they could go for blood and stain everything in the scarlet-red fluid. I shook uncontrollably for a little bit as I pondered all of the possibilities.

"Nate?" Daniel asked in a frightened voice, likely seeing my state of distress. I quickly stopped thinking and refocused my sights on Daniel. He looked scared too, a lot more scared than I was. I had instilled the fear in him, I realized. I saw through his amber eyes into his thoughts; I saw thought after miserable thought of scenarios of what could happen to Galena in the weeks to come. I suddenly placed a forceful hand onto his left shoulder, clothed in an Aeropostale tee, to bring him back to Earth. Sure enough, his state of wonder lifted.

"Daniel, you can't think about things like that," I said, removing the hand from his shoulder. "Otherwise, you're going to die from a nerve overload than from the scenarios you are envisioning."

He didn't look that much calmer after that statement, so I spoke again.

"Even if they do come to blow us up, we can surrender to their cause so they won't kill us,"

"But what if they kill us anyway?" Daniel said in a touch calmer tone.

"I'll push you out of the way and take the bullets myself. You know my life is a hell hole; I'd sacrifice myself for anyone, any day," Probably not the best thing to say to Daniel, but I had said it already. All I could do then was to listen to the conversation unfold.

"Nate, stop it!" Daniel said, no longer concerned about the upcoming war. "You are a good person; you just need to see it for yourself!"

"No one would care if I died on the business end of an AK-47," I said, not realizing the amount of ignorance I had shown in the sentence.

Daniel shook his head. "Nate, you have the purest of souls I've ever seen. Golden, even. You use it to lift even the darkest of spirits, like mine. You just need to look past the shroud of darkness you lurk in to realize it. You need to look at life differently!"

A loud, triple bell filled the school with its artificial sound, lifting several students' heads towards the red digital clocks placed on the ceiling. I looked up at one, too. It displayed 7:55, meaning the bell had rung for the five minute warning before classes would commence that morning. Daniel waved goodbye, still looking concerned for me more than the Revolution, and speed walked away in the direction of his class. I looked over to the alcove to see a once bubbly atmosphere reduced to a barren space of gray tile and white brick; a building version of a wasteland. It was then did I even start thinking about getting to my own class. With my barely noticeable bag on one shoulder, I headed back towards the stairs at the end of the hall, but took a left turn just before the staircase. That left turn led me into room 314, Mrs. Schmidt's room. I opened the heavy wood door in front of the room and entered the classroom.

I heard several students had already gotten into the class, considering the noise level of chatter. Upon walking into the classroom further, my eyes confirmed what my ears had reported: almost two-thirds of the seats assigned for use were filled with a high school boy or girl. I found my own seat and settled down into it, and checked the ceiling clock installed on the upper wall a ways front of me. It displayed 7:58 in large, red numbers. Seconds later, the eight flashed into a nine, and the ear piercing warning bell was heard as a result. But the noise level of chatter in the room was so great upon the bell's start that the alarm was barely audible. Only one minute until the class, High Level Chemistry, would start.

What a class for only sophomores to take! What adult or parent even knows about how to combine polyatomic molecules into compounds? If the adult doesn't have a major in chemistry, it's unlikely they would know. That's what I love about going to an IB school: You get smarter than your parents. _I'll show my parents that I'm worth a damn, with all of this knowledge I'm retaining. _With a new resolve to learn, I sat up in my seat and dropped my bag from my shoulder to the tile floor near the desk. I can only hope that education is what it takes to win back my parents' respect.

As 8:00, and the "School is in session," bell came and went, the morning announcements commenced. Like every day since the start of school, the same popular girl with the same monotonous voice talked about upcoming sporting events that I could care less about. Like the radio news guy earlier, I ignored the announcements and listened to my thoughts instead.

Apparently, according to Daniel, I have a golden soul. I guess that's true; I put others' priorities ahead of my own. If one of my friends doesn't have a critical assignment done, and if they cry for help, I'll help him/her out, no matter how hellish the questions may be on the said assignment. Sometimes, I forget what _I_ have to do because of how enthralled I am to get to make someone else's life better than mine. It's just simple selflessness combined with spiritual support I offer that makes me that way, I suppose. If my parents were around to give me that kind of support, I might not be as self-destructive in doing those things like I am now. Because I help everyone so much, I don't even have time to help myself out. But now, now it's too late for my parents to save me.

They've left me for so long that the seeds of darkness have been planted within my consciousness. They have been allowed to grow into an entangling, thorny thistle, wrapping around what I perceive to be my heart. The thorns puncture the organ, injecting the poison of hopelessness and despair. It's gotten so thick that I don't think anything can liberate my soul from sadness now.

I can only find little flashes of joy from seeing the joy in others' faces now. It's almost like a drug: I always do anything it takes to accomplish making someone else happy, only to want to do it more and more. I may never break the addiction as long as I'm alone.


	2. Insanity

**A/N: Stuff starts to get a little mental here. I took a big risk writing like this to try and get readers into Nate's mind as best as I could. After this chapter, I promise there will be a lot less thinking and more doing. Patience…**

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The school morning came and went fairly painlessly; it's hard to fake a good mood when your friends put you in one from the start. Almost immediately after the first assignment in Chemistry was assigned, my friends started bringing out their sexual innuendos. I laughed, chipped in some of my own, and had a blast, not even caring for the oh-so important assignment. It is in this way that I think school isn't what many cut it out to be. A lot of kids I talk to relate the institution to death, sometimes worse than. Well, maybe; Algebra II is a product of hell itself, but, other than that, school is a great place for me, significantly better than that of my quiet, sad house.

At school, there are always people you know, people you can trust to help you get you through the day. My friends are always good at doing it, and the instance in Chemistry was no exception. They share my pain, and try their best to bring me out of the endless void of despair. Needless to say, it never works out, but I always appreciate their efforts, no matter how feeble of one. They act like family to me. But friends can't provide true compassion like an actual family can. No matter how much I want to prove that wrong, I realize that friends are, still, strangers. In that way, you can't expect them to say, "I love you," day in and day out. That's what parents are supposed to do.

Now, I realize that a possible solution to this would be to get a girlfriend. They seem to say, "I love you," a lot of the time to their mates. And the guys in those kinds of relationships seem to be a lot happier than most other, "single" guys. But despite the general popularity of having one, I don't even try to get into a relationship like that. These high school relationships, in my mind, are always destined to fail in one way or another. And when they do end, both ends of the ex-relationship are hurt in some way.

If that happened to me, who knows what would happen to my state of mind. It would only be better for a couple of months; just to be shot down even lower than where it was before the relationship. In these ways, finding teenage love just seems like a waste of time to me; time that could be put to better uses.

Excluding the other bit of fun I had, Chemistry was smooth and easy as usual. Today's lesson was just more and more stoichiometry work. Yet, so many have so much trouble with the concept that it makes me wonder if these classmates even have brains any more. It's as simple as getting units from whatever they may be; grams, liters or amount of molecules, to the mole. But upon looking around the room, I could tell that barely anyone had figured it out, given the many flustered faces I saw. So I went into action and did what I do best: Help others out. I was hoping to get around to helping everyone out (for their grade in the class as well as for my sanity), but I could only get to a handful of classmates.

Several of them who consulted me were trying to convert liters of a gas to the amount of molecules of the said gas. Thus, I had to go over why the mole was the main cog of the stoichiometry machine. Without that, it's almost impossible to convert the amount of liters to number of molecules straight up. The liters **must** be divided by the amount of liters a mole takes up at standard temperature and pressure; 22.4 liters, to be exact. Once the amount of moles were calculated, you then multiply the amount by Avogadro's Constant, 6.02 x 10 (to the 23rd), to get the amount of molecules in scientific notation. Even when I walked through it like that, only a few people got a grasp of the concept.

Well, I would be lying if I said that I walked through it like _that_: I spoke in a much more cryptic, scientific language that only a few people could understand anyway. At least being a teacher is not my lifelong calling for a job! But, it would be nice if I could actually "teach" better, for the sake of successfully assisting more people; for the sake of my sanity. Because when I did it the way I did, I saw more frustrated students than I did enlightened ones. After the class ended, I resolved to refrain from talking like a genius for the rest of the school day. Simple words only!

Then I headed to Concert Choir, one of the more difficult classes for me to get through. Singing is difficult when you do it at high tempos, pitches, and collectively, high competition levels. Hence, the word "Concert" in the name sums the class up: A high performing choir, practicing hearts out to get every note right. We rehearsed a song that references a beautiful poem by the wonderful William Blake, and a Christian hymn that's sure to captivate an audience just by sound alone. But the lyrics complete the serene sound like peanut butter and jelly!

The arcane Latin words of the lyric seem to match the serene sound. Every flowing consonant and complimenting syllable matched the rise and fall of the song's volume and nature. The harmony of so many elements results in what I would call the definition of beauty, when done correctly, of course. The class is hard because of the physical effort it demands from me and my jawbone. The jaw becomes so fatigued from singing so much that I sometimes want to drop out of the class for that sole reason alone. But my endurance would always prevail, and I make it through class after class of Concert Choir just by that alone. And, despite making such moving music for a whole ninety minutes, I leave relieved every time. Today was no exception.

The next class was World History; interesting but boring. I always take pleasure in learning about topics such as the Russian Revolution and how it compares to today's worldwide conflict. But when we're required to spend excruciatingly long periods of time taking page after boring page of notes, the fun in history is immediately diminished and depleted. I managed to take the notes, but not without bout after heated bout of mental protest. Once I left the class, I left with a seriously degraded mood. My thoughts drifted back to my missing parents as a result.

The thoughts centralized around how they're pretty much dead to me, considering I've never seen them in five months; about what they might have actually been doing in their respective places in the world. My mom could be on a month long break in the Big Apple, trying out as many fine restaurants and spas as she can handle. My dad might be climbing Mt. Fiji, or he might be getting wasted to hell by over consuming bottle after bottle of sake. The thoughts of what pleasures they could be enjoying led back to thoughts like, "My parents are never coming home," and, "They don't care about me."

It was a vicious circle of thought that I found impossible to break. Finally, I decided I needed to right my own mental ship and come back to the reality of what was Southwest High School. I was on the second floor when I opened the wooden door to the tile landscape of the men's bathroom. I could afford to be late five minutes to the last class of the day, English II.

The recently serviced, clean bathroom had no inhabitants as the tardy bell to my English II class rang out. The ugly green tile stood out like a huge, once-gaping scar. But the tile environment didn't matter to me as much as the rectangular, reflective piece of glass that was mounted on a wall on the far side of the bathroom: the mirror. It was in such a vertical position that one could view their whole figure in the mirror. I positioned myself in front of the mirror to get that desired effect, and gazed at my body in its entirety.

I only saw a guy with longish legs, partly covered by a beige, American Eagle brand pair of shorts. Looking up from the legs to my torso section, I saw a thin mid-section covered by an orange tee-shirt, matching the shorts' brand, being American Eagle. I also saw my not-so-muscular arms, width smaller than most peoples' who work them out at least a little bit. If anything, the only thing toned on my body would be my quads and thighs, thanks to numerous fifteen mile bike rides I enjoy taking now and again. I just looked like a thin, underworked white boy from that distance. But, I stepped forward twice to see my face in detail. That's when things started to go nuts.

As I looked into the mirror, I saw that all of my other facial features were normal and evident. My lips were a skin pink color like usual, my eyebrows were as bushy as normal, my nose was nothing special; just a nose. Even my straight, black hair was decent, despite a few stray gray hairs here and there. I'm nothing special, by any means of looks...but my appearance was acceptable. What really got my attention, and what really got me frightened, were the sight of my eyes. A pair of darkish green eyes gazed intently back at me. Upon examining the set of optics further, I saw spots of darkness here and there, in the coloration of the eyes. They prevented the iris from being a complete, whole shade of green. I knew that this was normal among many other humans, but I took the sight like it was one of a kind. It looked as if the darkness inside of me was breaking through those irises; to display to the world what condition I was in. Was I becoming someone, or something, different, seeing the alleged eye color change?

I had enough of the seeds of darkness when I had conjured the vision of my heart ensnared by thickets of thistle and weeds. This sight was real, not an imagination. I was (or was I?) becoming a creature of darkness! As soon as I came across that thought, I exploded into a sprint, out of the bathroom and back to the second floor hallway, trying desperately to get the harrowing sight out of mind. And at that point, I came to the bold decision that I had to get out of school early. I had become insane.

I flew down the stairwell closest to the bathroom; just a ways to the left of the bathroom. I stopped once I hit the first floor of the building and made more hasty decisions. I thought of the escape plan, which got answers almost immediately inside my brain. I was to take the south exit out of the school; the one exit that would draw the least attention to a soon-to-be dashing self. Luckily, I was on the south end of the school, and that southern exit was right in front of the stairwell, separated by space of an elaborate hallway, gilded in granite.

Not long after realizing the goal was so close to me, I restarted my resolve in the same, quick pace. But in my carelessness of my surroundings paired with my haste, my Reebok shoes slammed on the tile floor with every heavy step I took. The noise demanded the attention of a nearby security guard. Likely noticing the attempt of escape, he said something to the likes of, "Hey!" or, "Stop!" in a deep voice. But I paid no attention to whatever he said and kept my pace entering the ornate stone hallway.

As I closed the distance between me and the exit, I heard another set of heavy and hasty steps echo about in the hallway. As I got to the double doors of the exit and pushed one of them out, I looked back at the pursuer: A stocky security guard was bearing down on me at half-speed, pre-occupied with something in his hands. I looked closer at those fumbling hands. He had his suppressed Glock in his right hand, and was just about to load a small, highly visible orange magazine into the weapon. As I realized he had drawn his gun, I blasted through the open door, renewing my creed to escape more than ever. There was no way in hell I was going to be shot by 9 millimeter rubber bullets! No way!

The original distance of a mile and a half that I had planned to jog was now going to be an adrenaline filled sprint, with an officer going hot on me; one and a half miles to cover just to get to my car. In that time, I would have to exhaust both the officer and his gun in order to get away from the school without any further obstruction. As soon as I reached the concrete sidewalk a few feet out from the exit, I veered to the left. As I passed a corner of the school building, I saw the vast yard of oaks and maples, aptly called "The Shade Yard." This yard would not only be good for shade, but also for cover from the spray of bullets I would soon receive. However, I was taking this way in order to avoid running across the front doors of the school, where reinforcements would likely pin down my escape plan. So I entered the mini-forest of trees, with leaves that were only just beginning to appear in the spring's warmth.

I zigzagged around tree after tall tree, hoping to give the officer's bullets a harder time finding me. I could, however, not lose speed; I was sure that the officer was back to full speed after seeing him slowed from preparing his weapon. He had to, just to keep as close as possible, to get the best shot as possible on me. But he was running, which would throw off his accuracy quite a bit, considering the jarring effect running has. Suddenly, I heard a muffled click behind me, and a tree I passed on my right had a section of its bark explode into splinters. He missed his first shot. Soon after seeing the bark fly, I heard a yell of frustration, followed by the cessation of the sound of footsteps behind me.

As soon as I was out of the mini forest, I turned and, running backwards, looked back into the forest. He had tripped on a large protruding tree root, which sent him to the hard ground mercilessly. I theorized that he tripped because he was so focused on taking the shot that he didn't focus on where he placed his feet, which ended up with him on the ground, in pain, face down. As I continued to look at the officer, dressed in a typical navy blue uniform, I took a hit. In my observance of him, he lined up and took another shot while prone on the ground.

The rubber round smashed into the right side of my rib cage, which was immediately followed by pain I had never experienced before. I yelled out an extremely obscene expletive as a result, and turned my back to the officer to accelerate away. He took another shot, which whizzed dangerously close above my head. I was lucky to avoid such a shot; that would have knocked my lights out. But the shot was highly unprecedented from such a highly disciplined individual; a head shot with a rubber bullet would have damaged me permanently. He was likely just frustrated by my escape, not even caring to hold back!

He fired a third shot, and it connected with my left shoulder blade. I screamed in pain again, and sprinted past the other school building corner to end any other possible hits. He unloaded the last three rounds of his magazine in quick succession as I went around the corner, but they were not even close to reaching me from his desperate aiming. As I ran along the school towards the student parking lot, I heard another agonized scream come from behind me. The officer must have done something to himself by falling, and when he would eventually get up to continue the chase, was floored by pain. It was possibly because of a badly sprained ankle, but I didn't care. All I cared about was getting to my car, knowing that no one was pursuing me from that point on. The incident, in whole, lasted about two minutes, and I paid the price of taking two shots to the body to leave school.

I tossed the light bag I had in my hand into the back seat of the unlocked red Mustang. Exhausted, I spent a minute to catch my breath, taking steep, laborious breaths. I then closed the back door of the car with my left arm. My left shoulder rewarded my efforts with an unbelievable amount of pain, almost enough to force me to my knees. I almost even screamed out again, but took the pain and just grunted, not even wanting to cry.

I moved over slowly and opened the car's driver seat door, this time with my right arm. I gingerly lowered myself into the leather driver's seat, only getting a slightly lesser amount of pain from my left shoulder. I closed the car door after me with my left arm, crushing my own teeth through the renewed pain of the shoulder. Once closed, I inserted my keys into the ignition and turned it to bring the faulty engine to life. It took five tries this time around, but the engine finally turned over and roared to life, starting its melodious humming once more. But I could've cared less for the sound at that point, contrary to my moods towards it that morning. All I wanted to do was to go home and hide. To hide in my depression and silence, to heal myself, and to lose myself from this place we call Earth.

I pulled out of the parking cell and slowly drove out of the lot, with every bump on the lot equaling another round of pain from my shoulder. At least the wound on my torso wasn't hurting as bad, but was hurting only marginally less than the wound on my scapula. I eventually drove over to the lot's exit and made a quick left turn, homebound. I would have to spend another long thirty minutes on Verdun Avenue, made much more agonizing from the bullet wounds. No longer were the thoughts of my gone parents hurting me on the road, but the actual pain from my wounds. Maybe there_ was_ something that hurt more than the aspect of my missing parents.

**·◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊·**

I threw the two metal doors protecting my house closed behind me and headed straight for the bathroom. Not even thinking about the irony of the situation, I lifted my American Eagle shirt off of my back to assess the damage in a mirror; a mirror to help me out this time around. What I saw made me retch for a second, but I regained my senses and looked at the wounds even closer than before. When I saw the first one on my ribs, I wondered if I had just been in a real firefight, with real guns and ammo.

I gazed at a large indent, almost a crater, in the skin. Shreds of broken flesh surrounded the central point of contact just millimeters away. The whole wound was made even more gruesome upon seeing the blood flowing out of it. There was a sizeable stream of the scarlet red liquid oozing out of the wound. Although it wasn't much blood, a lot of it had been sopped into the shirt I had on. But the blood just kept streaming out at a slow pace; my life, dripping into the sink. I made an immediate assumption that one or two ribs were broken, but I couldn't distinguish pain from a fractured rib or from the bullet, so I could only make a hypothesis about it.

I made a ninety degree turn to the right to get another nasty view of the injury. It was causing the skin around it to swell in a bruise-purple lump, but it hadn't swelled enough to be a full-fledged welt. Taking in the wound as a whole, I realized that I probably wasn't hit by a rubber bullet, but a baton round. The plastic round would cause this kind of damage, unlike a comparably softer rubber bullet. I made another ninety degree turn right so my back would face the mirror, but looked straight ahead at the wall instead of over my shoulder into the mirror. I took the time facing the wall to absorb the situation; that what I was seeing was actually there. I took a deep breath, and finally glanced over my shoulder into the mirror, to see an even worse injury on my shoulder.

I saw an even bigger and deeper indent in the skin, and the broken skin was shredded more around the indent. This time, some of the flesh in the area of the wound was starting to fall off of the site of impact. And to top it all off, there was more blood flowing out of this wound than that of the one on my torso. Thankfully, the area of trauma was not swelling like the wound on the torso, so it didn't look any uglier than it needed to be. After seeing all of the damage, and stomaching yet another bout of retching, I left the bathroom in search for a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, several gauze pads, medical tape, and a new, steel spirit.

I spent four never ending hours trying hopelessly to fix myself back up. The peroxide was absolutely horrendous, given how deep the wounds were and how much of it I had to use. Every time I poured some on a wound, it felt like dropped a napalm bomb directly into the wound. The resulting, burning sensation hurt so much that I cried out every time I performed the process. I wailed in endless agony for the whole hour I used using the lava-like peroxide, feebly attempting to make a bad situation better. At one point, the thought of getting myself over to a hospital crossed my mind, but I recalled one of Galena's laws.

The law states that individuals under the age of eighteen could not receive care unless accompanied by a confirmed parent or guardian, or if the situation is known to be life-threatening. I was only sixteen, and baton round wounds are typically non-lethal, especially in my situation. I was alone in getting the care I needed.

Consequently, I made a very poor decision to let the blood drain from the wounds. I had to bandage them up at some point, but if the blood was still flowing, I thought it would be better just to drain out the blood rather than continuously applying bandages to the troubled spots. So I spent two grueling hours letting blood run out of my body, as well as sopping some of it up with a cotton gauze pad once in a while. Pint after precious pint of blood dripped into the bathroom sink, staining the once powder blue ceramic structure blood red. The shade of red was so intense that I wondered if the color would accurately personify the Reykjavik Massacre. But the amount of blood that I let waste away into the bottomless drain of the sink was more than I had originally anticipated. As a result, I suffered a severe drop in energy, and became very exhausted. But I pressed on through the fatigue, and after one more hour, I had the wounds covered in bandages of gauze pads and medical tape.

Soon after finishing the repair work, my world suddenly lost all color. My apricot colored skin faded to gray, the brilliant outdoor sunset to white, the dark red of the blood to nearly pitch black. Despite the effort, the mistake of draining all of that blood marred the operation, plummeting me into a state of shock. I then walked to the bathroom's exit, where I lost all sense of thought. All I had left was an action plan; nerves took the role of the brain from that point on.

When I walked out of the bathroom into the hallway, I assumed the plan of reaching my bed; to wait out the condition, or, more preferably at the time, wait until glorious death stole me away from the universe. Walking almost like a zombie, I lost the feeling of the soft carpet on my feet, and soon, the smell of the sharp peroxide in the air. My body began to fail me, preparing me for death. As I entered the doorway into my room, I started to lose balance, becoming dizzier every second. I summoned one last ounce of strength from the depths of my spirit in order to make a leap into the nearby bed. I made the jump, which landed me face first into the mattress. I turned my head to a side to allow for air flow, but what was the point if death was only minutes away?

Finally, my vision began to tunnel out to black. My brain had briefly activated from its previous state of torpor, allowing me to make one last thought: _A worthy end to an unworthy person_. After that, my vision cut to complete darkness. I'm pretty sure death would finally…

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My banging, throbbing head wakes me with a start. My eyes open to the black and white world I had been acquainted to not long before passing out. Still feeling extremely drained, I slowly turn my head towards the half-egg shape of the clock. It displays 12:53 A.M. What a shocker; I had not died, but had only lost consciousness. And it was so convincing that I had died, considering how the events of the previous day replayed in my head so vividly. Why spare me; a person as broken as me? I try to sit up, only to find the lack of energy in my system gluing me to the bed.

I can't sense anything from senses any more, but, what's this? An ambient ringing sound starts in my ears, getting louder and louder with time. I can only compare it to what someone would hear after a close range flash-bang grenade exploded. Now, I hear a soft, dreamy sound cut through the ringing. I focus into the pleasant sound, cancelling out the ringing by a considerable amount.

"You…do you happen to be…a human?" a voice asks, which I realize was the pleasant sound. I can't respond, finding my mouth to be as immobile as the rest of my body.

"You must help us. I…I have been looking for such a soul as yours. A…a soul as pure as spring water," the voice said again, with a tone growing in intensity. I can only listen to the voice more, unable to respond from my injuries.

"You…will save us all. Show your valor, mighty human, and…" the voice cut out abruptly after that.

"HELP ME!"

What a change in voice, tone, and attitude that was! Why did that…? Now, I feel like I'm being lifted up into the space above me. Ascending…into what? My vision cuts out to black, leaving only the feeling of ascension. I'm strangely still aware of my surroundings, or lack thereof. Now, my vision goes to white. And I feel…I feel…

* * *

**A/N: And that marks the end of the regular world setting for now. Pokémon world, here we come! A review is appreciated; I'd like to know how the flow was in this chapter in particular.**


	3. A New Life

**A/N: I am going to swap POVs a lot here. Be vigilant for it when a line separates the text.**

**Before you are dismayed...there's going to be a weird thing going on with Nate's eyes. This is just an overreaction of Snivy's...not some wondrous ability Nate acquires! I won't get _too_ fantastical like that in the future...but personal perception does play a big role in this story.**

* * *

"What's this? Is it…is it what I think it is?" I ask, giving away my surprised mood. I have found it at last! The item that has been eluding me for so long now is here! And as I set my eyes upon it, there was no mistaking it. I have finally found Reviver Seed number one hundred, the amount necessary to sell at the market to get a large amount of money; the amount of money necessary to buy a piece of land with. I grab the seed like it was a rare valuable from its hiding place in the dark green thicket. I place the find into my explorer bag, made of just leaves and rope. I bounce off, back to the forest that separates me from Post Town. But I have a harrowing thought go across my mind: _I have to get by Bug-types?!_

I skid to a halt in front of the entrance to the forest. It looks as lush and inviting as can be, with the tree leaves matching my own shade of vibrant green. Oran Berry bushes set the perimeter of the entrance, with ripe Oran Berries hanging fat on their bushes. I _would_ take some, but my bag is so full with Reviver Seeds that it's impossible to find any more space for a berry or two.

So, a mission with no healing items allowed, barring the use of my hard earned Reviver Seeds? I make a check further into the forest, trying to find any hostile creatures. Not a Pokémon is in sight, but only the thick, shaded undergrowth, typical in forests like this.

"Ok, Snivy, just go slowly and don't panic," I silently coach myself as I start taking small steps towards the welcome, yet daunting, entrance. The one that has the plump Oran Berries, the beautiful shade trees, the sweet smell of blooming flowers…the one with the thick undergrowth, whose thistles aspire to scratch me beyond repair…the one that conceals the Sewaddles, Venipedes, and Braviaries…wait, Braviaries?!

"No! No, no, no, no, no, no! No!" I exclaim as I turn tail to retreat. I make a full out hustle away from the forest's frightening entrance. I fly by the other orange leaf Oran bushes introducing the thicker portion of the forest, now becoming further and further away behind me. In my haste, however, I realize that I had taken a completely different route than before to get back to the thistle that harbored the last Reviver Seed. I now run on a coarse gravel path, completely different from the soft, green grass I had traversed earlier.

I soon realize that I'm lost once the gravel path turned into a softer dirt one. Or am I? Looking at the trees and how they taper off further down the dusty road, I come to realize that this path may lead to a bluff or a mountain. I always like the idea of easier matchups for a Grass-type Pokémon like me. I can take the Ground-types commonly found in bluffs and mountains much better. And if there is a path leading around that wretched forest…I'll take it!

Calm now, I continue the walk down the dirt path, looking off to the side of the road every now and then to find a noticeable change in scenery. But I still see the same dispersal of deciduous trees and the not-so-sharp blades of grass, outlined by a pristine blue sky. I look back down the long road, set on the task once again. Trying to keep my hopes up, I burst into an impromptu skip.

The skipping was much faster than just walking alone, which resulted in a reward of sorts: The cool air running across my face and through my scaly skin. I close my eyes in enjoyment of the moment, maintaining the skipping gait. I don't need friends to give me this. Nature does it for me! It does all of the part of taking care of me. Oh, how I love…

"NATURE!" I instinctively cry out, tripping over an unexpected, woody tree root jutting out in the path. I hit the ground face first from the trip. I lay there for a moment, wallowing in pain and lost pride, before picking myself back up. I brush my body off and check my tail. The large, beautiful green leaf on the end looked fine as usual. With the pain gone, and with a sigh, I continue down the path, eyes now on watch for tree roots, head up.

Not more than ten steps later, I see an organic-looking lump on the ground in the distance. _How unusual_, I think to myself, approaching what I think to be an out of place piece of debris. As I get closer and closer to the object, the view of it becomes clearer and clearer. Suddenly, the view of the object became so clear that I realize that this was no piece of debris, but a Pokémon!

I dash the remainder of the distance to the fallen Pokémon, a little bit concerned for its condition. As I finally get close to it, I slide to a stop. It's face down; all I could see was its dull green backside, a dark green head, and a short, pointy tail. _I must turn it over_, I think, letting my explorer bag drop from my shoulder to the ground.

I position myself on one side of the poor thing, and bend over to get a good base. I draw my two long, green vines and lightly set them on the Pokémon, aiming to push it over with the much sturdier vines. I prepare the vines with enough slack so when I was to push it over, the strength I would put in the vines would snap right through the tendrils, hopefully providing enough force to push it over on its back.

Taking a deep breath, I hesitate a little, seeing the successful scenario play through my head to gather inspiration. Finally, after a moment of mental preparation, I send a forward force through my vines, as strong as I can make it. When the force contacts the Pokémon, I feel its superior weight to my own. I never realized how heavier it could've been than myself when making the plan of action; at least I used my stronger vines instead of my comparably feeble arms. But, I had given the vines enough strength to power through the weight, sending it over to its back.

I withdraw my vines after the job was completed, retracting them to their original, concealed positions. It did not move at all after the move, meaning that it probably wasn't sleeping, but unconscious. _Why would it be unconscious?_ I ask myself, looking over the defenseless Pokémon once more. I confirm it to be an Axew, seeing the telltale, ivory-colored tusks protruding out the edges of its mouth, along with its body's pale green coloration.

I check over it for any sign of injury or trauma that could explain why the Pokémon ended up like this. These days, Pokémon can't be trusted. They've been becoming less and less trustable as the days go by. There's a possibility that this Axew was jumped by some thugs, knocking it out in the process. However, no wound or injury is to be found on the Axew. Then how is it unconscious?

Now more concerned for the Axew, I abandon the fallen Pokémon and head for vegetation off to the side of the road, seeking medical supplies. I run, brushing through long, deep grass to find more seed thickets. I happen to find an Oran bush and a Chesto bush on the run, and I conveniently swipe a berry from each. Soon after finding the bushes, I run into a seed thicket, with several pods of the seeds. I find five of them on one thicket; a jackpot compared to the usual two _seeds_ per thicket.

I take all of the pods and scurry back through the long grass to the Axew's position. I halt once I'm next to the Axew once more, and drop my precious bearings onto the ground adjacent to it. Standing next to the Axew, I commence cracking open the brittle seed pods containing the large, helpful seeds. I open the protective pods easily, spilling out handfuls of seeds.

Once all of the pods had been pried open, I sort out the seeds I received by size, in order to determine the seed types. Let's see; three Eyedrop, two Stun, a Blast, seven Violent, and… ah! Two Revivers! Thrilled with the luck (and the lack of necessity to chip out of my store of Reviver Seeds already on hand), I pick up one of the two Reviver Seeds and walk a step to beside the Axew.

There isn't a way to administer the seed orally; its jaw looks clamped shut, as tight as the grip of a ViceGrip attack. In an improvised attempt to bring the Axew back, I place the seed in front of its nose, hoping that the complex scent of the seed would be enough to do the trick. I maintained the action for several moments, until realizing that the Seed was not doing any good. The Axew was still lying there, motionless and unresponsive. And if the Reviver Seed wasn't working…what would?

"Please, wake up! Do something! Hey, you're alright, I'm here now!" I plea to the unhearing Pokémon. This is really serious now, given the Reviver Seed failed. Is it possible that this Axew is…?

"No, you can't be! Please, answer me! Respond! Open those eyes!" I continue to plead. Grasping the other Reviver Seed in my free hand, I retry bringing the Axew back with two Seeds directly in front of both of its nostrils. But now, I'm losing hope faster than I've ever lost it before. I don't want to admit this at all, but…could this Axew seriously be…dead?!

* * *

I suddenly snap back into awareness, only to realize that I can still only see the same empty color of white as I saw when I lost consciousness earlier. Not long after coming back, I realize the aspect of thought return. _…What is this light? Why am I being…lifted?_ I think with my thoughts back. For some reason, I can feel my heart race, despite not having a body in the sea of white. How peculiar...

_Is this the afterlife, or just another vision?_ I wonder again, realizing that my heart is racing out of pure fear. Where did the pain from the bullets go? Where was my desire to die? All I can find is fear of the future, whether it be another painful vision or the realization of death. _Maybe I don't want to die. Can one die by causes such as harmless as baton rounds?_

Now, my thoughts drift towards the voice I heard shortly before losing consciousness. It was so dreamy, nearly sleep inducing, but it asked such a serious question that I couldn't tell whether or not if I had imagined it just then or…or what? How else could have that voice reached my mind? It certainly wasn't a voice that could just be conjured up; it sounded so…perfect. And why am _I_ the one who was chosen to help (if that's actually happening)? Why me? Why not someone else, someone who has their nerves and emotions in line with some physical muscle? I was not even comparable to a lot of people at school in those categories. Why _me_?

For some reason, my fear is slowly ebbing away, much like pain from a minor bump shortly after the incident that caused the said bump. In seconds, the fear is gone, departed from my mind. My racing heart slows down to a more calming, even pulse. I am left with only the sickening feeling of rising higher and higher into...something. But now when I think about it, the rising feeling is slowing down. It's slowing, slowing, slowing, slowing…to a stop! The rising feeling stops calmly, now leaving me with just a vast expanse of a white environment. _Is this it? The afterlife?_ I think, but quickly rule out. If I was there, I wouldn't have a sense of myself, much less a heartbeat, right? …What's this? I hear…a voice; maybe the dreamy one like I heard before? No, definitely not. It sounds sharp, terse, and almost desperate; not the same voice at all! Now I feel the feeling of having a body again; the feeling of having skin, bones, and muscle. It's hard to explain, but I knew it when I felt it! Maybe this wasn't the afterlife after all. But now, the voice has become significantly more coherent from what was a mess of sound waves. Now, the pain from the baton rounds shoots right back into me. I feel my muscles cringe up, unable to cry out with my mouth. But from the pain comes energy, flowing once more, unbounded by the crippling blood loss I had suffered earlier. Am I waking back up, where I will find myself in my house again? Now, the voice is becoming clear. I focus all of my power on the voice, forgetting the bullet pain.

"…ease! …ke up! …Do …mething! Hey, …alrigh…ere now!" I hear the voice call out to me. Despite the clarity the voice has, it's only just a little bit legible to my ear. Now, the voice has paused. Now my sense of touch has come back, and I immediately feel a dusty, gritty surface below me. I realize that I'm lying face up on the surface, contrary to my nearly face down status on my bed earlier.

"No, you can't…? Please, answ…me! Respon…! Open those eyes!" the voice cries out. My, what a desperate individual…and with so much lament in her voice as well! Yes, it's a female voice. Yet, it's one that cares about me? Can it be…my mom? Is it? …No, no definitely not. There's no way it can be. The timbre of my mom's voice and this one is completely different. Nope, guess not. After that realization, my once hopeful mood is now lower than I've ever felt it; I shouldn't have expected as much from the voice.

"You aren't dead! You're not! You're alive and well! You're just taking a nap!" the voice cries out at me again, almost sounding like actual crying. Now I need to wake up, just to calm the gal down. I don't like causing frustration, but causing sadness…would be unbearable. I now struggle as hard as I can to find a feeling of eyelids, to pry them open to comfort the source of the voice. Instead, I get my sense of smell back up and running, and now I'm breathing in a very sharp smell.

...Is it basil, but…intense? For some reason, smelling it gives me the sense of having eyes almost immediately after my sense of smell booted up. I'm…I'm actually opening my eyelids! I think I can see the sky, obstructed by a few trees, through the narrow slit of vision my eyelids allowed. But the sky is still white, and the trees black; I still don't have the ability to detect color.

I hear the once crying voice gasp, followed up by the sounds associated with movement; like a shuffling sort of noise. I can only open my eyes wider by very small margins; now I can finally see the exciting colors of the world. _All is well_, I think, now only needing my vision to focus from the blur it is.

Suddenly, my head begins to throb mercilessly and, combined with the pain from the bullet wounds, forces a terrible, elongated groan from my mouth. I roll to my left in an effort to find relief, but none was to be had there. I roll back on my back, realizing my eyes are half open. I see a figure standing above me, likely the source of the distressed voice.

"Shh… take your time! If you feel weak or hurt in any way, open your mouth so I can help," she said in a now relaxed, happy tone. Feeling both hurt _and_ weak, I hastily obliged, gaping my mouth wide. A large drop of very tasty juice falls into my mouth. I can't even explain the flavor…sugary and fruity, but which fruit was the juice made from? _If it tastes this good, it _must_ be good for me_, I think as I swallow the sweet liquid.

A minute or two passes, and my energy reserves have been filled to overflowing! The figure standing above me must have seen this in an expression of mine, as she's now backing off to the right of me. My vision is now clearing up, with eyelids almost all the way up. All the pain I had, both the pounding headache and the pain from the bullet wounds, ceases, giving way to the feeling of no pain. A feeling that, I think, I have never experienced in what seems like millennia. _Shall I…sit up?_ I find my arms resting by my sides, and bend them into elbows to support my movement. It takes a while, but I'm finally sitting up. _I…I'm alive!_

"Welcome back!" I hear my savior say with glee. "You had me scared sick!" I turn my head over to thank her, but I stop the head turn to slow down my actions. Suddenly, a light breeze teases my skin. _I'm…outside? How?_ There's no mistaking it; I'm in what looks like thin forest of sorts, seeing all of the deciduous, green trees.

I swivel my head to the right and see a seemingly everlasting path, a light brown, dirt path, desiring water. The path is flanked by numerous trees on both sides, with bright orange bushes here and there. The bushes are bearing large, blue fruit, begging to be harvested. All of this is accompanied by the perfectly green field of grass.

What a sight! The trees and bushes are placed so perfectly that the view could only be reproduced in ornate paintings. But the view is so majestic that I don't even think Leonardo da Vinci himself could even reproduce the landscape! It's so…artistic. So…beautiful. I take my time to gaze down the path, not even thinking about how I even ended up outside in the first place.

"Ah, you like what you see?" my savior asks, with a nearly inaudible giggle of sorts. She must be a local here. Wait, here? _Now that I look at it…this is no scene I've seen in Galena_, I think, _so where am I?_ I do like the view, but the view is very foreign to the concrete jungle of Galena. And the blue fruit on the bushes are something I've never seen before. They look like blueberries, but blueberries _never_ come from bushes with orange leaves.

I realize that I haven't even looked at the savior yet after asking the question soon after the series of questioning myself. I turn my head over one hundred eighty degrees to see who saved me. Expecting a teenaged girl, I don't find the features of a human girl _at all._ My heart quickens once again upon looking at her. This…is no human, much less animal!

I instead see a vibrant green head and back, completed with a cream colored underside. There's a brilliant shade of yellow outlining the top and outside portion of her large, amber eyes. When she blinks, her eyelids flash that same shade of yellow. She _looks_ like a snake, but she stands on very thin legs. She also has very slender, green arms. To top it off, what looks like yellow ribbons splay out of what appears to be her neck. They're curled in such a way to look like a section of a _fleur-de-lis_. Collectively, she's a serpent I would never guess to be in my world.

Her colors are so beautiful that not even fiction could begin to describe. Fiction couldn't even describe her figure! She's…something else. Not in a bad way, but definitely not what one would see on Earth. I look down to place my limbs in positions to lift myself up to a standing position, but…what?!

My once long legs are replaced by very short ones. My body is stockier than normal, and is colored a shade of pale green; army green! And my arms match the color scheme, without the distinct feature of hands. All I have now is a very small area of palm, surrounded by three fin…digits! There's no denying this at all! I…am also un-human; just a short, lumbering beast! What is going on here?!

* * *

After administering the Oran Berry to the waking Axew, he begins to rise up to a sitting position. I stand a short distance away, waiting for it to falter getting up so I could assist it to assume the position. But the Axew manages to sit up on his own, appearing fully operational. He almost looks over to me, but stops his head turn just short. A light breeze blows throughout the area, and the Axew now looks down the path, away from my position.

Trying to see what it sees, I move behind Axew and look over its head, looking down the path. I can see why he's spending so much time looking there. The trees and Oran bushes _are_ well placed, but there isn't anything else special about the scene. I've seen several other views such as this in my lifetime in this forest. It's almost commonplace to see sights like this around here. _This Axew might not be from around here_, I think, mystified even further as to how he ended up unconscious here in the first place.

I retract back from the side of the Axew to my original position to the right of it, where it would know where I was when it would eventually look at me. I toss the juiced Oran Berry into the thick, green grass just off the road. Hopefully, that will grow into a bush in a year or two. I turn back to face the side of the Axew, to see him still gazing down the dusty path. I decide to try and divert him from the view with a bit of obviousness. Hopefully, just the sound of me alone will command his attention.

"Ah, you like what you see?" I say in a cheery tone. I giggle just a little, amused by the Axew's confusion. It takes only a second or two for the Axew to finally be satisfied with the amount of time it spent to look down the path to turn to me. I kneel over to one side so I'm at eye level with the Axew, to comfort it silently.

He's now looking at me, gazing at my figure with its peculiar green eyes. How strange—Axew _never_ have green eyes. I look into his eyes to confirm what I was seeing, and sure enough, a pair of perplexing, green eyes just stares back at me. The Axew is looking me over, but I'm only looking at its eyes. They're demanding my attention from my own; to study its eyes, not its figure. The eyes appear streaked with spots of darkness, like its pupil had leaked into the iris in certain spots. How interesting...

The Axew suddenly refocuses its sight on itself. I feel…relieved that it did that! The Axew had broken the trance that its eyes had me locked into. And, my…my heart is racing so! I had never realized it until now that my heartbeat had intensified. How does one acquire such spellbinding eyes as this Axew?

I focus on the Axew once again, seeing it glancing over itself. It's looking over its body for an elongated period of time, and now holds out its arms in front of it, still looking down. Is this disbelief I see in his actions? _Has this Axew…lost its sense of a self-being?_ I ask myself, cocking my head over to one side in curiosity. The Axew raises his head from facing the ground, looking at nothing in particular but his thoughts.

"Wh…what is this?" he finally asks in a distinct, male voice. His tone was fairly gloomy.

"This is a forest," I start. "I found you here on this path, out like a Litwick!" I finish, trying to bring his mood up.

"N-no, not like that!" he says, dumbfounded. He lifts himself up from a sit to a stand, not needing help. He remains looking straight ahead of himself. "What I mean is where am I? Who am I? Why am I…like this?" he barrages, becoming more and more flustered after every question. I can see the beads of sweat form on his face; he's scared. Now I'm concerned for his health once again, and I get scared myself. _Does he seriously not know who he is?_

"Well, do you have a name?" I start, trying to walk the Axew through his muddled mind slowly and thoroughly.

"…Name? Why, yes, I do! It's…it's…uh…"

"And I told you, you're in a forest," I add, trying to supplement his thinking the best I can. I break out of my kneel and stand alongside him.

"…It's…Nnn…Nay…NATE! It's Nate!" he cries out. Well, Nate's losing his look of fear at the least; his mood isn't as flustered as before upon the revelation.

"Nate, huh? What an…interesting name for an Axew!" I say, calming down from my own state of concern. But, Nate _is_ an interesting name for a Pokémon. I've never known, or heard of, a Nate before.

* * *

"…Name? Why, yes, I do! It's…it's…uh…"

Not good. What _is_ happening to me? How did I sink so low as to forget my own name? I try to scramble my thoughts the best I can back into a row. I'm sweating what seems like gallons of salty brine. I'm…scared again? Well, maybe not scared from where I am, the creature in front of me that I can talk to and can understand, or what creature I myself have become.

Well, maybe I'm scared about those a little bit, but not as scared from those as I am from the fact that I could have actually lost my mind. Maybe the event I experienced at Southwest was a fluke; just me being stupid. But now, I don't even know my own name. Why is it so?

"And I told you, you're in a forest," I hear the green snake add in, concern filling her voice once more. Man, I've put her through a lot, with this business of being unconscious. She's been so worried for me for so long now. I like the compassion, the true compassion, she's giving to me, but she's probably dying from stress right as I ponder this. Should I…make up a name just so she can exit her state of distress for once? To help her state and my own depressive state? As I continue to wonder what to do, my thoughts stumble across a bit of information. Is it…could it be my name?

"…It's…Nnn…Nay…NATE!" I exclaim, sending any existent fear and doubt packing from my mind. "It's Nate!" I quickly reinforce to confirm. _C'est Nate! _I think, closing my eyes in relief. In relief that I had proven myself wrong about having gone completely crazy.

"Nate, huh? What an…interesting name for an Axew!" she says in delight. Well, at least she is without doubt, judging from her tone. Without concern…wait what? _What?!_ I glance down at myself again, making a double take at who I'd truly become. What used to be soft, apricot colored skin, covered by a shirt and shorts was replaced by the army green skin I saw earlier, all around the portions of the body that I can see. _Is this even skin?_

I feel my upper torso, rubbing what used to be my hands across my chest. I now have a very tough, thick skin instead, upon the observation. It almost makes me feel like…a tank, with the feeling of all of this armored skin on. It was certainly stronger and rougher than my human flesh. I start to make another realization soon after that: I have lost a lot of height in this transformation.

Because of my now stubby legs and a torso much shorter than when I was human, there was no denying my puny height. I think I went from six feet flat all the way down to (dare I say?) not more than two…tops! I look back up to the scene of tall trees straight in front of me, sighing. _Maybe I _have_ gone crazy_, I think, _but why is that such a surprise to me? I've been insane forever, haven't I?_

"So that's my name then? Axew?" I query the serpent, maintaining my glance at the trees in front of me; to prevent her from getting a read on my likely woeful-looking face. To prevent her from getting concerned again.

"Yes it's your…generic name. Your actual name is, like you said, Nate. But, since it's possible for there to be several Pokémon to look like you, you are collectively called "Axew." But that doesn't mean you're the same as all the other Axew," she explains to me slowly, trying to get me to understand.

I'm thankful for her effort, and piece together what she said. _Right! A species name, like animals!_ I realize in thought, trying to align the information in my clearing brain to find understanding. _An Axew is, thus, similar to the name "human," a broad species name_, I reason further. As I looked over what she said, however, one word stuck out. She…used it like a name to describe every creature. An even broader name, quite possibly? I turn to face her, still trying to get all of the information right.

"Several _what_ look like me?" I ask once more, determined to get as much data as possible on my new form. Now looking at her, she assumes an exasperated look after hearing my question. A look, like she would _expect_ me to know the answer. I studied her face, particularly her eyes, to get a better read of her mood. Her yellow eyelids are slanted down in what seems to be irritation; anger, almost. But no, it's neither of those.

Upon gazing at the green snake, she looks more like she's in a state of confusion. It's like I had said something to her completely in French. Suddenly, she starts tapping one of her weak-looking legs on the ground, up and down, again and again. _This can't be anger_, I conclude, _but puzzlement_. Is it possible that what I had asked was really, really obvious? Like she had explained it before, but I took no care into picking it up? Or is it obvious to creatures like her and me (excluding my mindset)? _Should I…explain that I'm not one of them?_ I ask myself hotly. I play out what her reaction would be if I said something so fantastical in my mind. There's too many negative reactions…

"Yes," she starts, snapping me out of my thoughts and back to reality. She pauses.

"Several _Pokémon_ look like you," she finishes, stressing the word "Pokémon" so I would get the answer easily. She cocks her head to the side, matching her look of wonder even more.

"Like this: You and me both are not the same beings at all. So we cannot both be called "Axew" accurately. However, it's accurate to call us "Pokémon,"" she explains further. I begin to use the new information to reason some more. _Axew is to human as Pokémon is to…animal!_ What a revelation! I don't know how, but the snake enlightened me! I feel the urge to hug her slender form, but restrict myself, reminding myself that she's a stranger. Instead, I open my mouth for a question.

"If I'm Nate…or, Axew…who or what are you?" I ask, making direct eye contact to stress the importance of the question.

* * *

Poor Nate. He's so clueless. He's checking over himself once more, like he hadn't believed what he saw the first time around. Now he's checking again, to confirm what he saw earlier. How does one end up so confused and amnesiac? Was he assaulted by a Psychic attack, which happened to cause unintended damage to his head? Or did he just fall over something, like how I tripped over a tree root earlier, and land on his head hard enough to turn his mind into scrambled eggs? Either way, both would explain why he ended up passed out on the road. Yet, none explain how he seems largely unhurt.

"So that's my name? Axew?" Nate asks solemnly. He's still looking in space in thought, denying me a read of his face to determine his exact mood. Does he not want to show me what kinds of feelings he has? I sigh. Back to his question, I start to construct a sentence to try and make everything clear to Nate in one go.

"Yes, it's your…generic name," I start, stammering a bit before continuing. "Your actual name is, like you said, Nate. But since it's possible for there to be several Pokémon to look like you, you are collectively called "Axew." But that doesn't mean you're the same as all the other Axew," I finish. I refocus onto Nate once again. He's still looking away from me, looking into his thoughts instead, like before. This must be a lot of information for him to chew on. It seems that after I tell Nate something about him, he loses himself in thought. I guess he's still coming to terms with himself.

But with what terms? He's been an Axew for his whole life, right? I mean, he should know at least a little about himself. But I've been proven wrong about stuff like this before, so I won't be surprised if Nate actually doesn't know anything about himself at all. Suddenly, Nate turns his head to me. And again, his eyes are pulling me into just them, not the whole of Nate.

I'm trapped in some wondrous spell; my whole body feels immobile as I gaze further into his otherworldly eyes. They're still begging me to look into them deeper and deeper still. As I'm pulled into them, I can finally get a read on Nate. His eyes betray his feeling of not belonging. Like Nate's lost or something.

"Several _what_ look like me?" Nate finally asks. His voice is so fierce, likely because of how his eyes had me in their grasp for so long. But Nate's voice, fierce from my oblivious self, frees me from his eyes' grasping hex. And once again, I never realized that my heart rate picked up to a race until I broke from the trance. I refocus on Nate's question quickly. I try structuring another sentence to answer his, but I pause the process to look at him again. Careful not to fall for his eyes' trap once more, I scan his face in search of answers for myself.

How in the world would Nate _not_ know that? That's like, the most fundamental part of his identity, and for him to not know it is awfully disconcerting. Sure, the amnesia that can result after a head injury can be fairly severe, but I've never heard of a Pokémon forgetting about what the word Pokémon is. Much less have I heard of Pokémon forgetting their own name, be it "generic" or actual...

I start tapping my foot in wonder. As I started to do so, I suddenly realize that Nate has been scanning me this whole time! He was feasting his eyes on my actions, my expressions! What has he learned from me in this time? Not wanting to risk giving away more body language, I restart making a sentence to answer his question. With a sentence formed, I take a deep breath.

"Yes, several _Pokémon_ look like you," I start, remembering to accent "Pokémon" so as to answer Nate clearly. I cock my head over to the side, trying my best to stay composed while explaining a concept as simple as this.

"Like this: You and me both are not the same at all. So we cannot both be called "Axew" accurately. However, it's accurate to call us both "Pokémon."" After saying that, I try to read Nate's body language again as he processes my answer.

He slants his head up, obviously in thought, but Nate maintains a blank expression. Wow, is he good at keeping me from entering his thoughts or what? I feel frustration well up inside of me, feeling terrible at the amount of personal info I had given him earlier would not be paid back here.

Finally, the edges of Nate's mouth begin to curl up into a grin. He gets it now! I could jump and dance in the joy of having enlightened someone from their amnesia, but I don't. I won't, just so he won't see my mood. Okay, maybe I'm _still_ a little frustrated at myself for giving Nate that much information about me earlier.

"If I'm Nate…or, Axew…who or what are you?" Nate asks in a wondrous voice; like if this question was answered, he would truly know the secret to world domination. Now, Nate looks directly into my eyes, locking his with my own. Not like his eyes were already noticeable or anything; they're, like, his main feature, considering how much I looked at them before. I nearly introduce myself, but am stopped by Nate's attention-demanding eyes.

I'm paralyzed from that gaze! I try to move something, anything, but none of my muscles will respond! I find my eyes drift into his, delving deeper and deeper into them. I do the only thing I can do, and try to read Nate through these eyes. All I can see are a pair of eyes as curious as a snake's, wanting to knock me out, to send me to sleep! My eyelids are suddenly heavy with the weight of the world, and I use too much energy to drive away the drowsiness. But I spent the energy well, because I... can now see Nate for who he actually is. I'm reading him now.

And I see…I see…unbearable misery and pain. I wince as his inner feelings leak into mine. I can, too, feel unbearable misery and pain. I look further into Nate's eyes, only to see suffering everlasting. But why? Nate seems like he could be really upbeat and happy when his mind isn't in the sticky muck of doubt. But his eyes show everything contrary to happiness, hope, and freedom. Just…the darkness of depression. Why do they demand my attention so vehemently? It's not like I can help Nate's sadness; I'm a terrible friend. There's a reason why I have no friends that makes it so. But now, I'm pulled further in…

"Hey! 'You alright? Wake up!"

I feel a huge force hit my body, severing the dreadful vision short. My eyes jolt open, finding myself taking horrendously deep breaths. My heart now feels like it could explode out of my cream colored chest. Like it wants to fly away from the sight I had seen. And…I'm on the ground? All I see is a thin cover of leaf green tree branches, slightly obscuring the pristine, blue skies. Despite taking a big hit, I barely feel pain.

I sit up, meeting a very severe bout of dizziness upon reaching the apex of my sitting position. I throw my heavy head into my arms soon after feeling the sickening dizzy spell, holding them. I close my eyes to endure the dizziness, to forget the world of pain I had been in searching Nate's eyes.

What the heck happened to me? At one point, Nate's eyes had me in their spell, but the next moment…I had fallen asleep! His eyes actually tranced me into a deep sleep of sorts, deep enough that I couldn't tell that I had given way to slumber! _Nate has _got_ to teach me that move one of these days!_ I think in dumb amusement, still dizzy and catching breath.

"Should I ask later?" Nate asks, sounding very sorry about what he did to me. I wonder if he even realizes what happened was his eyes' doing. Feeling the dizziness ebb away, I lift my head out of my slender arms and re-open my eyes.

I'm facing away from Nate this time, probably a good position for me to be in at the moment. Daring not to look at Nate again, I try to recall what his question was. It takes a minute before I can recollect exactly what happened before Nate sent me to sleep: He asked me what my name was. Well, that's easy!

"I'm Snivy. Nice to meet you, Nate!" I finally respond, trying to sound happy. But I'm sure a tone of curiosity and doubt leaked out when I introduced myself.

* * *

As I look at her, she returns the eye contact, fulfilling my desire of an eye-to-eye response. She must know how important that question was, because she's taking a long time to answer. But why hesitate to answer such a question as this? It's as simple as speaking her own name, right? _What could be happening?_ I wonder, maintaining eye contact.

Looking at her face, she's taken a big mood swing since after the question. It went from some sort of happy or concerned face, to a face of nothingness; blank. Her body's following suit, not moving or twitching as to prevent me from reading her. _Is she refusing to answer or is she locking up for some reason?_ I ponder, thinking about what to do in order to speed up the delivery of a response.

Focusing back on her eyes, I think I can see why she's taking so long. Her large, amber eyes are searching mine _way_ too deeply. How can one preserve such an intimidating stance while not even moving anything at all? This…Pokémon never fails to amaze me. I wave my arms high above my head to get her back from drifting off. She does not respond. I finally decide to be hypocritical with my own beliefs and break eye contact, to see if she was locking up from such an intense moment.

My view drops to her cream colored belly. It expands and contracts faster than any panicked person I've ever seen. Suddenly, her eyelids flash yellow about her eyes, eventually giving way to a solid color of yellow. Her legs give way to her seemingly superior weight, leaving her to fall. She collapses into a heap on the dry dirt path, face first. She's out like a light.

"Whoa!" I exclaim, jumping over to her. She, not unlike me a while ago, had fallen unconscious. I kneel down and feel her surprisingly scaly yet smooth skin, looking for a pulse. I give up and drop my hands to her stomach, lying on the ground. There's no mistaking it; her breathing is astronomically fast, only meaning that her heart rate is well over two hundred beats per minute. The rise and fall of her expanding and contracting lungs is so rapid that I fret over the fallen Pokémon.

I set what my hands would be further up her scaly body to her side, where her green colored back meets her cream colored front. I slowly roll her over to her back, taking care that her tail, tipped with an enormous, palmate leaf, was not in the path of her rolling body. Once rolled over, I looked her over again. She had not woken from the roll. With her eyes still shut, I nudge her a little with my arms.

"Can you hear me? Hello?" I ask, not getting a response. It's clear that no nudge was going to rouse the Pokémon from her state. So I take a step back, whisper an apology, and caterwaul into her.

"Hey! 'You alright? Wake up!" I command as my body closed in on her's. Trying not to hurt her in the process, I turned my body in a way to minimize contact. My shoulder crashed into the middle of her side, impact lessened from the body repositioning. I quickly get up and stand away from the Pokémon to give her room. Examining my work, she had not acquired a more serious injury than possibly a bruise from the hit.

Suddenly, her eyes snap wide open. She takes a moment of lying there, facing the sky, then picks herself up to sit up. Upon sitting up, however, she drops her head into her slender arms, eyes closed once again, but in pain. _How much pain _did_ I cause?_ I wonder woefully. Did the shove rattle her head too much? My mind swirls like a hurricane, wondering how I could've done such a thing to such a majestic, caring creature.

"Should I ask later?" I ask feebly, wondering if she needs time to recover. She lifts her green-and-cream head out of her arms in response, opening her eyes once more, but facing away from me. She spends a minute sitting there in dreadful silence. I wonder if she'll be…

"I'm Snivy. Nice to meet you, Nate!" Snivy says in an upbeat tone. But it's obvious that she's feigning her mood so I wouldn't worry about her, given how much her response shook. _Why _would_ Snivy be so happy after that?_ I think, backing my original assumption. But I quickly retract the thought. _Maybe I don't understand happiness as much as I think I do. After all, I'm just depressed, lonely mess…_

"How long was I out for?" Snivy asks, bringing me back to the current situation.

"Ahh…not more than five minutes, I suppose," I say. _I wonder if Pokémon even know how to keep time…_ Snivy slowly gets up and checks the position of the intense sun. I follow her gaze, screwing my eyes as to not burn them. But I don't know which way is east and which way is west, so I can't tell the time myself.

Nate, I'm going to be late!" Snivy suddenly cries, running towards a primitive, full-looking bag on the dry ground.

"Late for what?" I ask urgently, following Snivy.

"There's no time to explain!" she says frantically, slinging the rope sash of the bag made of leaves over her shoulder. _Well, I guess Pokémon _do _know about time. Amazing._

"What do you mean?" I ask in response, only now realizing that she had blasted off running down the path a ways, leaving a large cloud of dust behind. She stops her run abruptly and turns to face me.

"Come on!" Snivy commands me, beckoning me with both of her arms, appearing desperate for me to follow her. I instinctively obey and begin running after her. As soon as I start to charge her way, Snivy restarts her run. Not long after I started running, I see a berry and a mess of oversized seeds, some organized, some not, on the dirt. _Snivy might need these_, I think to myself.

I drop speed to about three-quarters of my top speed, allowing me enough time to nab everything on the ground. After the pick-up, I accelerate back to top speed, items in tow. I struggle a little bit with carrying the items while running, but I manage. Until I realize that Snivy is just a bit faster than I am.

"Wait up!" I call after Snivy, trying my absolute best to maintain pace and catch up to the green…the green…Pokémon!

* * *

**A/N: I did the POV switching for the sake of catching every thought and reaction. Snivy is only so mesmerized by Nate's eyes because she's never seen such eyes on an Axew before. She doesn't see an Axew, but Nate's human attributes in the form of one. But, Snivy will be the only Pokémon who can see this; it's not like Nate will be able to charm opponents!**

**I'll give you a literary hint of sorts: The story will turn into somewhat of an allegory. As to what kind...try to figure it out on your own, if you want.**

**But yeah, I plan to at least update weekly, and at most update twice weekly, coming on Wednesdays and/or Saturdays. I may even update more for the first few chapters, to supplement the story a bit more. I would update more, but I hand-write these chapters before plugging them into a computer for editing. Thus, my writing process takes a lot longer than most. Again, I appreciate any reader who took the time to read; thank you! **


	4. Falling Out

Snivy has been leading me down this path for maybe a little more than five minutes. During the whole of those minutes, we've been running, running, running, down the dusty path. _Why is she taking me? What use am I to her?_ I ask myself, in obvious wonder of why Snivy really wants me to follow her. _We just met, like, maybe an hour ago, and she's taking me someplace. To her…event of some sort. Yet why would she invite such a stranger as I?_

The trees that once surrounded the dry path in large numbers are now slowly disappearing. The dispersal of the tall plants is getting spread out further and further, much unlike the forest I assume we used to be in. Looking through the cloud of dust Snivy is leaving behind, it looks as if the trees even stop populating the land. The once lush, thick grass is thinning out as well, becoming shorter, hardier plants. There are even some patches of the grass where it's brown from death; a major contrast to the primarily green colored, living grasses.

Is it possible that Snivy could be leading me to a barren area? A wasteland of some sort? Wouldn't the forest be more suitable for a Pokémon like Snivy? Sure, I don't know _anything_ about these creatures…at all, but Snivy has a huge leaf on her tail! That has to mean something about symbiosis with a forest, right? _But, I suppose these creatures also have curious behaviors as well_, I realize. _I'm not in a position to judge an action._ I still struggle to catch up to the dashing Snivy. She's at least seven yards ahead of me by now. And she's still making ground! I'm going to lose her at this miserable rate!

Moments later, my short legs begin to beg for mercy. Mercy from the sprint I've been forced to maintain for seven minutes now. _I'm not meant to do this!_ I scream in my head, almost ready to collapse in exhaustion without care as to where Snivy would go. Snivy finally slows to a walk, as if she heard my silent prayers. I close the yards she put on me during the run until I'm a few feet behind Snivy, and then slow to a walk myself. I allow for the soothing waves of relief wash over me, trying to recover as fast as I can in case the need to run arises again. Panting heavily from the spirited run, I finally get a good chance to check my surroundings.

What few trees that I had seen before has been reduced to almost no trees at all; only one or two are within sight. Even the outlandish orange-leafed, blue berry bushes are gone. The bushes and trees are replaced by uneven-looking boulders, replacing any colors of vegetation with the stone colors of light brown and gray. Even the grass, which was once tall and thick, has been replaced by solid stone. Even the dirt path gives way to the new stone surface.

Although the stone is smoother than the dirt, it's less comforting than dirt. For some reason, it feels a lot less forgiving than the dirt path we had been running on. Not forgiving as how it is as a surface...but more like how disconcerting it feels to be on stone. After seeing my world turning to stone, I look straight; the direction Snivy is leading me. I realize that she's not leading me to a wasteland, but a mountain!

I see the landmark in the not-so-far off distance, but still far enough so I can't see the physical features of it besides the shape. _If Snivy is as late as she says she is, why scale a mountain?_ Snivy, obviously ignoring my thoughts, presses on towards the mountain in front. Without a sense of navigation, much less direction, in the new world, I can only helplessly follow.

Snivy stops near the foot of the mountain. I halt right next to her, still catching breath from the run. I notice that Snivy has not even broke a sweat, nor is she even taking deep breaths to recover her oxygen supply, despite embarking on an elongated dash. I'm terribly jealous; I must be out of shape. So much for those fifteen mile bike rides...

Trying to fend off the jealousy, I raise my head to get a look at the mountain, close-up. Two grand, cascading waterfalls introduce the mountain; both on this side and the far side (where Snivy wants to go, I suppose). The crashing waterfalls kick up so much watery mist that the cloud of mist produced nearly conceals the small bridge scaling the raging river produced by the waterfall. But the mist hides the mountain well, only allowing me to see a shadow of the mountain; not an improved view from the view from afar. But I can see the height of the mountain now.

It appears to be a lot shorter than most mountains I've seen back home. Trust me; I've been to the Rocky Mountains before. Every mountain in that range can easily tower over this excuse of a mountain. Seeing this, I calm down a little, sizing up the challenge. If anything, scaling the mountain will be as tough as the hard run beforehand.

"Alright, Nate. Will you fight with me?" Snivy asks, turning her head slightly, enough to look at me through her peripheral vision. What an interesting question. _What does she mean by that?_ I wonder, trying to figure out how figuratively she used the word, "fight."

"Sure," I reply, assuming that the word was used in the non-literal manner. Not like that matters; I would just have to follow her anyways.

"Good. It's always easier to get through these with a partner," Snivy says with a nod, turning her head back to face the shroud of mist hiding the small bridge. She shudders slightly.

"Let's go," Snivy says, with an odd edge of fear. What's so frightening about a mountain? Is it the mountain or about her being late?

Snivy starts to stride towards the unseeable bridge. The mist swallows up her figure, leaving only a slowly disappearing shadow of her as she crosses the bridge. I soon stride into the mist myself to follow. However, I never realized how much mist there was until I get into the shroud. There's so much mist that visibility is cut down to, at best, three feet. All I can hear in the mist now is the deafening roar of the falls.

I slow my stride to a very slow walk in the obscuring mist, watching every step I take to make sure I won't fall into the frothy river. If that were to happen, it would most likely lead to my premature demise. Still staring down, I stop immediately when I see that I'm in front of the bank. About six feet down, the river rages on as fast as a stock car. No, that definitely would not be good to fall in. Still glancing down, I look to my right. I can see the left edge of the bridge there. So I position myself in front of the bridge, centered as can be. And carefully, I slowly begin to span the bridge, carrying the berry and seeds tightly.

Upon touching the bridge, I can feel that the bridge is very much waterlogged. The wood is soaked through and through from the deluge of mist it has been taking for who knows how long. The water colors the wood a dark shade of brown. Feeling the large amount of mist coming down myself, I have to squint my eyes, to avoid getting any more water in them than necessary. After a few more slow, forward steps, I can finally see the end of the bridge; the point where the soaked wood ends and where the wet stone of the opposite bank begins.

Still looking down at where I place my feet, I only go marginally faster with the goal in sight. As I approach the bank, the bridge below begins to creak audibly, despite the sound of the waterfall. The creaking sound is almost immediately replaced by a large cracking sound. The bridge crumbles from below, giving way to my weight, and leaving me in thin air.

Feeling the dreadful feeling of falling into the dangerous river, I drop all of the items in hand into the river. Freeing my hands, I flail my arms out and about, trying to grab anything…anything that could save me from falling to a watery death. One hand miraculously finds the damp stone bank in front of me. I latch on to the wet stone with all three digits, and brace it to catch my falling self.

Luckily, the hand holds, and I now dangle just a few feet from hitting the lethal white water. I can feel cold water drops from the river land on the lower portion of my body, as if the drops are trying to knock me in. Suddenly, my grip on the edge of the bank slips, lowering me an inch further. As good of a grip as I have on the ledge, the wet stone and rounded edge of the bank does not provide a great surface to hang on to. Then I come to the realization that my once mangled left shoulder is taking part in keeping me from trouble. If the bullet pain comes back, this won't end well!

The slipping of my desperate left hand has stopped for the moment. My heart races with my mind, trying to find solutions to get out of the sticky situation. But there are none; the only viable option is to muscle myself back onto the bank. But the ledge is too wet to hold any more force. If I do that, I fall!

"SNIVY!" I call out desperately, trying to get the help of the Pokémon. But the waterfall's noise is so overpowering that I'm not sure if Snivy even heard the call for help or not. Finally, the bullet pain I had in my world returns to my shoulder in its full fury. Pain renders my left arm useless, forcing me off of the ledge. I cry out in pain, agony, and fear as my hand is pried off of the wet stone edge. I'm falling once again. Only seconds away from death…

"NATE!" Suddenly, something wraps around my faltering left wrist and tightens around it into a very tight grip. I am caught by it, dangling only inches from the water. I cry out in pain again as my left shoulder supports my weight again, only indirectly this time. Soon after, something else wraps around my stomach and tightens in the same manner as the wrist. With some weight supported by that, my left shoulder is given a huge amount of relief. I have been saved, but by who? This can't be Snivy's work, can it?

The…whatever is holding me…begins to slowly hoist me up and out of danger's path. A minute later, my feet clear the ledge, and I'm pulled inland. I'm set down as soon as my feet were dangling directly above land only. Falling forward, I shiver in fear before whatever wrapped around my body loosens and pulls away. I look up in time to see two thin tendrils retreat from the shroud of mist.

Getting up quickly, I follow the tendrils out of the mist. As I break through the shroud of mist, I can see…that the green tendrils _did_ come from Snivy! Wow…she saved my life again.

"I-I'm so sorry…" I say in despair. "I'm such a detriment to you." Snivy draws the tendrils back to her, concealing them in a strange manner.

"Nate, stop," Snivy says sharply. "That wasn't your wrong doing." I notice beads of sweat streaming down Snivy's face from fatigue. She's even panting after the work she put in to save me. I guess, even to a well-conditioned individual as herself, lifting things double her weight might be tiring. Considering her skinny physique, she doesn't seem to be the one to lift such weights. It makes me feel worse knowing how much strain I put on Snivy, just to save a stranger.

"I…I was just crossing the bridge until it…cracked and buckled from under me," I say, still shaken from the experience. Never had I been so scared of death as when I almost did fall into that river.

"It rotted from under you. There's only so much water a wooden bridge can take, you know," Snivy says, stepping towards me. "Besides, I have an excuse for being late now!" Upon saying that, she grins a little bit in amusement. But I cannot find comfort in her smile, her light-hearted tone. As reassuring as she tries to be, I'm starting to have serious doubts about this expedition now. I can't hold onto items for Snivy without losing them. I can't even spend a couple hours on this world without almost dying!

That, paired with the fact of my lack of Pokémon experience, makes me feel more useless than ever. Nothing more than a lead weight; only holding back others, not letting them go. In this case, it's Snivy. Maybe the only thing I know here is depression and sadness…

"Nate, welcome to Ragged Mountain!" Snivy says, turning to face the landmark. Still disgruntled from the recent events, I lift my head to look at the mountain.

I can see the red stone-colored mountain much clearer without that mist and distance shadowing the mountain. As expected, Ragged Mountain is not the tallest mountain I've ever seen; maybe a little less than one thousand feet high. It's so small that the pointy spire of the mountain is easily seen. However, a ledge appears to be on the mountain, not too far up from the ground me and Snivy stand on, with only a dead tree telling me that there is a ledge there.

A dry, rocky gulch separates the mountain into two sections. And in front of us gapes a large, dark cave opening, leading into the mountain. There's barely any grass on the ground here as well, only a stone floor matching the color of the mountain's orange-brown hue.

"We're going through that cave, Nate. The bridge crossing that gap in between the mountains is out," Snivy says, pointing to the gulch. I turn my head to look over the gulch once more. Sure enough, remnants of the starting and endings sections of a wooden bridge almost span the gulch completely. There's maybe a twelve foot gap separating the two ends; way too vast a distance to jump across. With the bridge at the waterfall behind us also gone, our only option is through the menacing-looking cave, leading inside the small mountain. Scaling the mountain is impossible without mountain climbing gear, which is obviously unavailable.

"Nate?" Snivy asks, turning her head to see me through one of her large, amber eyes. "Are you sure you're ready to fight your way through this?"

"Yeah," I reply. Even if I have to go through a cave, getting through the mountain still looks fairly easy. Then again, looks can always be deceiving…

"I know you've been through a lot recently, but…do you want to take the lead in this?"

"No," I reply in puzzlement. Why would Snivy ask such a question, knowing that I'm clueless to everything? "Can you not do it?"

"Well, I…" she pauses, looking at the stony ground under her. "…I'm a nervous wreck. I get frightened a lot more than most." Well, she might be right. She looked _very_ frightened when she found me lying on the ground, unresponsive. That's understandable, but this task is simply going through a dark cave. It can't be _that_ scary…

"I honestly have no idea where we are," I start. Snivy looks up to my voice to see me. I establish eye contact with her, trying to be formal. But as soon as I did so, she turns her attention to something past my right shoulder. _Maybe she is scared about this. _

"I'm not from around here. If anyone has a clue to this place, it's you. Sorry," I finish. I almost tack on the fact that I'm actually not one of them, but quickly suppress myself. Seeing her in such a nervous condition, I don't know if I can. She might lose it, knowing I don't know _anything_ about this world…at all. I hate not saying it, but it has to be said at the right time. Otherwise, she's just going to think I'm crazy. Which, I guess, _is_ true…

"I know this is really strange to ask a stranger, but can I trust you to watch my back?" Snivy says, clearly wanting some support to her timid self.

"Yes, you can," I reply. "I'm capable, despite how I was earlier," I finish, still wondering if everything I was seeing was reality, not just some amazing dream. Suddenly, the baton round pain racks my nerves, causing me to wince at the feeling. The pain not only comes from the left shoulder, but the ribs as well. Glancing down, however, there is no obvious cause to the pain. Just the same thick, green skin that all Axews have, I suppose. _I would have woken up from that, right?_ I wonder, feeling the pain ebb away to nothing mysteriously. _And why can I still feel pain without seeing a wound?_

Remembering how the piercing shoulder pain forced my hand off the ledge into the river, however, I start worrying about myself again. _Maybe I'm not capable._

"Alright. I believe you, Nate," Snivy says, turning to the cave's entrance, sizing up the challenges that await. She looks over the cave once more. "Just…make sure I'm not getting into trouble," she adds shakily. _Is this her first venture into something like this, or is she just this timid?_ I wonder, concerned. Who knows what awful thoughts could be swirling around in that mind of hers right now. _I hate to say it, but…I think she needs more help than I do. Who knows?_

"I got you, Snivy. Don't worry about it," I say with confidence, attempting to instill her attitude with some. "Let's get you to that thing you're late for," I add simply.

"Yeah, okay," Snivy says, still sounding nervous. I walk up to her right side, to show that I am, indeed, supporting her. Snivy sighs heavily, hopefully ridding her of her tension she's showing before the mouth of the cavern.

"Just…don't get yourself killed, okay?" Snivy suddenly says with an edge of expectancy. An achy, yet stinging pain emerges from my non-existent wounds flash on and off, reminding me to heed Snivy's word.

"You got it!" I reassure falsely. "Lead the way." Snivy exhales deeply again, then walks in the direction of the entrance to the dark mountain cave. I tail behind closely, wondering about what terrible perils could be in store. If I support Snivy, she should be fine. But…what if something happens to me? Will she do the same? …Maybe this won't be as much of a cakewalk as I cut it out to be earlier…

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**A/N: Please leave a review for this chapter…I'm not sure how well I did with it. Mainly, I made the chapter just to introduce the character of Snivy a little bit. However, I could not fit the chapter into the actual venture into Ragged Mountain at all. That'll be the next chapter, though!****. **


	5. Reduced to Rags

**A/N: I want to thank everyone a bunch for the support, favorites & follows, and the reviews; they give me a real morale boost in making the story. Seeing the paragraph issue pointed out by **_**thechinskyguy**_**, I have separated most of the paragraphs to shorter segments. I guess I can't exactly write this thing in a novel format if I'm putting it online, eh? So, here's my latest offering. And please, leave a review!**

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Surprisingly, my eyes do not take very long to get used to the low light environment of the dark cavern. I guess that's a perk that I should appreciate, now being an Axew. It seems as if every sensory detector on me has increased in effectiveness significantly.

With eyesight adjusted to the darkness, I scan the cave. We're surrounded by dark, shadowy rock, typical in any cave not lit up by artificial lighting. The ceiling above seems to be only ten feet above our heads, so the ledge I saw coming into the cave might very well be above us, supported by that stone ceiling. The room of the cave that we entered appears to be as large and as vast as the commons in Southwest. On the walls, there are three extremely dark spaces leading out of the room; likely tunnels. Seems like an ordinary cave to me.

"Nate," Snivy says in a terse whisper, stopping in the middle of the chamber, "stay as quiet as possible."

"Why?" I ask, hushing what once was my thunderous voice.

"We don't want to draw _any_ attention to ourselves," she answers, still in a tense tone.

"It's not like bats are going to attack us, right?" I ask jokingly. But as soon as the whole question came out of my mouth, Snivy slowly turns an amber eye on me. She puts on an extremely exasperated face.

"You _really_ don't have a clue, do you?" Snivy remarks in a highly irritated, yet quiet, voice. _Well, I could've told you that…_

"Maybe I don't," I reply in a somewhat hostile tone. I look down at the damp stone floor, deflated. _I _am_ useless. Why did she bring me along if this is the case?_

Suddenly, a loud grinding sound shoves me away from thought. Like something is drilling through the rock below…like something is digging underfoot!

"Shh! Let's go!" Snivy urgently whispers in response to the sound of rock being dug away. She turns from looking at me to looking at the dark corridor in front of her. Not long after, she begins making very hustled strides towards the opening. Head up, I follow intently. To cover and support her, I follow as close as to being able to grab her leafy tail. Together, Snivy leads me into the darkened cave hallway. Upon delving into the corridor, the digging sound that got Snivy to start moving abruptly stops. _What in the world was that?_ I wonder, still closely tailing Snivy in the corridor, keeping in time with her quick pace.

My foot contacts an unsightly rock of sorts, tripping me up. Once I lost balance, and all hope of regaining it, I emit a brief, low-pitch cry before crashing into the stone floor. I land face-down on the hard floor. Ouch.

"What in Arceus's name are you doing?!" Snivy demands in an angry, but still hushed, voice. I hear the pitter-patter of her moving stop to look at me, miserable me on the ground. _What has gotten into her recently?_

"Going on a trip, I suppose," I reply hotly, joking in an irritated voice as to counter her unnecessarily angry one. I quickly jump back to my feet and brush myself off.

"Watch yourself! You should know how dangerous these places are!" Snivy fires back, in a quiet fit. "Any excessive sound you make WILL be noticed!"

"Just go!" I say with a marginally greater volume than hers, trying to end the pointless conversation. "It's your event you're late to, Snivy! Not mine!"

I attempt to glare at her turned head to reinforce my statement, but she turns her head almost exactly at the same time when I do. The quick pace of Snivy's begins anew, and I'm quick to match. Only this time, I look down to be careful where I place my feet, to prevent another meltdown from Snivy. But I'm led into another room only seconds after my fall, proving my effort useless. I look up to survey the area.

This room has the same physical characteristics of being made out of rock and being dark, obviously. But the size of the room is not like the last one: This room is only about as big as what my small bedroom would be. But, there's something on the ground here. Looking at the object closely, it looks like one of those oversized seeds I was carrying before almost taking a dip in the waterfall's fierce river.

"Go pick it up," Snivy encourages me. I walk only a few steps away from Snivy to close the small distance between me and the seed. I snatch the seed from the ground with my right hand and quickly backpedal to Snivy.

"Well, let's see it," she says, turning to me. I outstretch my three fingers, seed in the palm, to show Snivy. She looks at the seed only for a second before turning back away from me.

"You keep it. I've got enough to worry about with these," Snivy says, pointing to her swelling bag draping over her shoulder. I tighten my grip on the seed and return my hand to my side, intending to do just that.

I look around the room, specifically at the walls, to look for tunnels. There are only two other tunnels this time, excluding the one we emerged from earlier. Snivy quickly makes a decision and takes the tunnel on the left. Like before, I follow her closely. Once in the darkness of the corridor, I focus only on my feet. Several crags appear here and there on the floor, and I easily step over them, not tripping this time. Knowing that I can actually do something right, a rush of the feeling of accomplishment fills my body.

This corridor winds erratically, _much_ different from the last corridor, which was comparably straight on. _Well…that's a cave. Unpredictable,_ I remember, still watching where I place my feet. But the corridor floor seems to even out at this point, so I consider just looking up the rest of the way.

Suddenly, the grinding sound of digging returns, only louder than ever! The source of the noise is so close that even the very floor trembles with the sound! But as soon as the sound started, another surprising sound of crashing rock comes from behind me. Soon after that noise, the digging noise ceases, along with the ground tremors.

Snivy breaks into a run, likely from terror of what just happened, given her reaction to the sound earlier. Feeling brave, I turn, looking to find a natural phenomenon responsible for the noises. However, I don't see a phenomenon, but just a path blocked by large boulders…and a mole-like creature. It's rushing at me, claws outstretched and raised above its head in a brazen manner!

Without thinking, I turn to run after Snivy. But she's long gone by now, effectively leaving me to face this threat alone. Still clutching my seed, I struggle to get to my top speed of my run.

"Snivy!" I yell down the corridor, breaking the oath of silence. "We've got a hostile on my tail!" A whoosh of air hits me from behind me, letting me know that the creature had almost scored a hit with a claw. Finally reaching the apex speed of my sprint, I struggle to find a response from Snivy. _Nothing_. What happened to our agreement?!

I continue to run down the same corridor, not caring to slow down to make a turn into another. The tunnel makes a sudden cut to the right, and then to the left. But the abrupt turns are not enough to shake the attacker. Suddenly, I see the corridor end in a mess of fallen boulders. A dead end!

With a creature bent on my destruction behind me and a dead end in front of me, I scramble my thoughts, thinking of any way possible to get out of the situation. Almost immediately, I settle on a bold plan: I'm going to dive onto the rocky ground, which will slow me to a stop quickly. If the assaulter is as close as I think it is, he won't stop in time, thanks to reflex delay. It'll overshoot me, giving me the opportunity to change direction and run the other way.

Without thinking about the possible repercussions of the act, I immediately hit the deck in stride, slamming onto my back hard. The attacker squeals in surprise, and it struggles to skid to a stop. It flies by me, but not without causing damage. A stray claw, swatting air to assist in stopping the Pokémon, manages to score my left cheek deeply, cutting through the thick skin. Pain shoots through that area of my face, causing me to flinch just a little bit. But I don't cry out; I take the pain like it was nothing and quickly jump to my feet and sprint in the other direction, enacting my plan perfectly.

In the tension of the moment, the seed I have in my right hand slips from my grasp, sending the seed flying in the other direction. I think little of the loss, only wanting to get away from the attacking Pokémon. Suddenly, I hear a close-proximity explosion come from behind me. _Is that an attack?!_

The once-dark corridor lights up in a brilliant fire-orange color briefly. A blast of heat meets my back, and the force of the explosion finally collides into me, sending me flying forward. I crash into the rocky ground, with my chest taking most of the jarring impact. I slide along the ground for a few more feet before finally stopping. I try to get up, but the blunt force of contacting the rocky ground keeps me from standing. Instead, I roll to my back and prop myself against a nearby wall, giving me a view of what happened behind me.

Instead of seeing the aggressive Pokémon rushing for me, all I can see is a brown lump, with ivory claws splaying out wherever its arms went. Whatever the explosion was, it took the aggressor for a whirl, rendering it immobile. Seeing the incapacitated Pokémon, I sigh in relief and fatigue.

"Nate!" Snivy appears next to me, stopping from a sprint. Seeing Snivy, I sigh again in relief, trying to catch my breath and recover. Eventually, some pain from the scratched cheek and from the hard impacts with rock subsides.

"What happened?" Snivy asks in a not-so-quiet voice. She remains standing above me, with a look of concern.

"That…Pokémon wanted to slice me up," I breathe out, still gasping for oxygen. "I changed direction in lieu of the dead end and…bang," I struggle to finish, crashing my hands together to represent the explosion.

"Good thinking with the Blast Seed!" Snivy compliments in a praising tone. She draws a green tendril, a vine, from a concealed position and wraps it around one of my arms, trying to help me up. Holding the constricted arm up, I use my other arm to support the majority of my weight. I don't think Snivy could support my whole weight, plus extra force to get me vertical. But Snivy helps a lot more than I expect, so I'm up to a standing position much more quickly than I expected.

Snivy, seeing me standing again, releases my arm and withdraws her vine back to its original, concealed position. But I'm more baffled by how a _seed_ could produce such a powerful explosion. It was like a RPG exploded behind me!

"A SEED can do that?" I ask, amazed.

"Oh yeah! They can do just about anything!" Snivy says in delight, checking my work with the Blast Seed.

"The poor Drilbur doesn't know what hit it!" she chips in. I look over to the downed Drilbur once again. And sure enough, it's still lying there, unconscious. _Damn…that's gotta hurt_

"I guess not," I agree, "but I wouldn't call it 'poor.' The thing had it coming for it, considering how it wanted to slay me!"

"Come on, Nate! I found the exit!" Snivy says excitedly, motioning for me to follow her. I follow. _What?! She abandons me to find…an exit?! That's messed up!_

Steaming again, I follow her as she cuts right, leading away from the long corridor to a room that's bathed in white sunlight. She did find the exit, but at what cost to me?

Snivy leads me out into the outdoors. I'm blinded by the sun, given that my eyes had gotten so used to the darkness of the cave. As I wait for my vision to return, I can barely see that Snivy is looking me over. She's obviously used to the light by now; maybe she was out here earlier before realizing she left me for dead.

"What's this?" Snivy asks, swiping a paper-thin hand over my cheek wound. The cheek stings from the contact.

"Careful! That's a deep wound!" I scold, helpless from being blinded by the sun's intense rays.

"Sorry!" Snivy gasps sincerely. "But, I don't get it. You're leaking out this red fluid," Finally, my pupils adjust to the light, and I'm no longer blind. I glance at Snivy's reddened hand. My blood glistens, catching the sun's rays, in its liquid form on her hand.

"What? Don't Axew have blood?" I ask, confused. _Do Pokémon have blood…or is this me? If it is me…then how is it possible?_

"Yes, all Pokémon have blood. But yours is awfully runny and thin. Most Pokémon have thick blood; especially Axew blood," Snivy explains, also baffled by the blood. _I guess I can't hide the fact that I'm not one of them for much longer, huh?_ Suddenly, I feel angry again. That blood was spilled by Snivy's fear!

"You know, I could've saved some of that blood if MY back was watched," I say sharply. Maybe a little too sharply, but I don't care. I almost _died_, thanks to her!

"Maybe if you followed my lead, you wouldn't be hurting," Snivy retaliates, shaking the blood off. She matches my level of sharpness. _You're on!_

"Nobody gets anywhere in life being as timid as a bird!" I attack, voice loud and laced with anger.

"Well, nobody ever lost blood being a pacifist," she mocks, matching my sentence structure. Her mocking tone infuriates me even more. _Remember Belgium!_ I recall from history class, rending her argument useless to me. Boiling over, I explode.

"The ONLY thing that keeps teams together is teamwork! You pulled a pretty selfish move back there, and I paid for it!" I yell at Snivy. I glare at her like I want to burn her with heat vision, teeth gritted. She immediately turns from my glare, giving me a cold shoulder. But she suddenly buckles, dropping to her knees. In a kneeled position, Snivy lifts her head to the sky.

"I'm SORRY I'm a coward! Okay?!" she screams out in a fed up tone. After the announcement, she lowers her head again. And there, on the bristly green mountain grass, did I hear her sob

I back away, jaw dropped in disbelief. I look down at my three-fingered hands and arms, like I had only seen them for the first time just then. What…have I become? Why am I so vengeful now?! Where has my so called "soul of gold" gone? _I'm so STUPID! Why would I even think to detest, probably, the only answer I have to this place? Why would I do such a thing?_ I discipline myself relentlessly.

My mind races in confusion, trying to find out how to rid myself of this abomination. But instead, because of how worked up I am, my baton round pain came back in their full fury. The sudden, intense pain of the bullets forces me to my knees, then on my stomach. I writhe from the feeling of suffering.

"Gahh!" I accidentally let fly, in a suppressed scream of agony.

"I don't care if it hurts!" Snivy cries out in response, probably thinking that I'm feigning the pain on my cheek. But I can only barely feel the slash; the pain from the bullets is so much that I can barely feel anything else but those two points of pain.

"You…don't understand!" I manage to say, with a tone that could beg for forgiveness in itself. "I'm hurt in a different manner! I have been hurt like this before what happened here."

"How is that possible?!" I hear Snivy ask, sniffling. "You weren't even hurt when I found you! Not a trace of trauma!" _Is it time? To tell Snivy…that I'm not one of them?_

"I've been hurt like this before you even met me," I begin to admit, feeling tears welling up in my eyes. I never wanted it to come to this. I never wanted to tell Snivy, to tell anyone, about what I'm going through. But now, I must. Because now, I'm a heartless beast!

"H-how?" Snivy asks. I hear her gasp, probably from seeing me doubled over on the ground. I'm surprised that she's going with it, and not trying to kill me for what I did.

"I…I had a life before this. Before being…a Pokémon," I explain. _Like Snivy would believe something that's so fantastical…_

"Really?! I can't see why you would lie about that. You are…different," Snivy explains, sounding closer to me. Well, at least she's observant. But still, I wouldn't believe it if a human came up to me, saying that they were a Pokémon. Then again…I'm an Axew. These are no ordinary circumstances. And I'm…no ordinary Axew, I suppose. I start to stand again, but slowly. I'm crushing both sets of my teeth, still in immense pain.

"I…think I was…killed in my previous form," I spill out further, finally getting to my knees. Maybe I did die in my world, but I can't be too certain. There has to be a good reason why I'm here, right?

"P-previous form?" Snivy asks, still believing everything. _Well shoot…here goes nothing…_

"I'm not a true Pokémon, but…a…h—human…" I finally admit. Oddly, some pain from the bullet wounds ebbs away, allowing me to stand. A tear breaks free from my eye and rolls down, stinging my left cheek wound. But…I will not cry. I'm stronger than this. I know it.

With my back turned to Snivy, I touch my left scapula and grunt audibly, demonstrating that I feel pain in a seemingly fine spot. I turn around to see a bewildered, wide-eyed Snivy staring me down. I repeat the process with the right half of my rib cage.

"I can't believe I'm saying this, but…it makes sense!" _Wait…what?! She believes me?!_

"I—I know you can't believe I do, but it's true. Your blood is something else. Your name, your attitude…your eyes! It's all so different!" Snivy adds, trying to blink away her tears.

"Snivy…I'm sorry. For everything. I…I guess I can't come to terms with who I am quite yet; who I've become," I say. Another tear streams down, only on the right side of my face this time. "I'm just a…monster, without care for others…"

"Nate, stop! Stop…degrading yourself!" Snivy chokes out. "You're an Axew! A big, strong Axew! Not a beast, but a dragon with so much potential!" After that statement, no one says anything for minutes. Only the distant sound of the waterfalls can be heard. _Like _I _have potential…_

"I'm sorry for not realizing it earlier. I should've known why you didn't know anything about this place! I mean…your eyes show depression of a level I've never seen in a Pokémon before," she manages to say, voice cracking in disappointment. "I…I should've supported you more…"

Not long after, she sobs again. I can only sigh, wiping away my own tears. I've finally found someone who knows me…who _actually_ knows me. And she's only known me for, maybe, five hours. Amazing. I just sigh again, ashamed that I would say such things to such a special individual.

"Snivy, let's not hate ourselves for things we can't change anymore. We can't afford that now. Let's get through this…together," I finally say, trying to return to my old self. Snivy nods and stops her sobbing abruptly. "I forgive you. Do you forgive me? For what I said?"

"I—I'm not sure if I can. Human or not, Nate, you hurt my feelings. I'll think about it, but…" Snivy solemnly says, trailing off. I hang my head in failure; I've already failed my resolve to make everyone happy, in this new world. Great. Now the thistle vision is coming back…

"But I agree that we should move through this like a team. Nate…I won't run, I swear." After Snivy said that, the whole of the once crippling bullet pain subsided completely, leaving me only feeling hurt from my cheek…and from the inside. But…I'll take teamwork over none at all.

I finally find the time to check my surroundings. Turns out, we're on that ledge I saw before going into the cave. I see the same brown, dead tree standing next to the cliff of the rocky gulch. Otherwise, this is a dead end. Nothing too special here.

I notice Snivy heading to the edge of the cliff to the rocky gulch. I loosely follow her over to the cliff.

Snivy seems to be investigating the distance between the cliff she stands on and the cliff on the far side. I notice the other side has a cave opening, similar to the one behind us. I look down the rocky ledge to the foot of the mountain on the other side. Sure enough, there's also a cave entrance on the ground level; the likely exit of the cave entrance on the other side.

But, we still have to cross this gulch. I walk up next to the dead tree and check the gap myself. It's not the biggest gap in the world, but it's big enough to discourage leaping across. Without a solution, I look up to the sky in thought, as if the answer was hidden in the wisps of the barely visible cirrus clouds.

However, not only do I see the sky, but also the dead tree, reaching its lifeless branches skyward. I get the crazy notion of comparing the length of the tree to the width of the gap. Upon doing so, I realize that the answer lies in the tree!

"Snivy?" I ask, looking back up the tree to make sure my judgment is correct. "I have an idea."

"Shoot. Because I sure don't," Snivy says lamely.

"I bet this tree could make a much better bridge than the one down there!" I say amusingly, trying to lighten Snivy up.

"Is that so?" Snivy says flatly, mood still unchanged from what happened previously. I back up from the tree and line myself up so I'm straight in front of the tree. Snivy just stands next to the tree, arms crossed.

"How much d'you wanna bet that I can knock this tree down in one go?" I ask. Personally, I've never knocked down a tree before, but I'm a Pokémon! I can do anything, right? I rear up my legs, preparing to charge. Snivy grins just a little.

"Bet you can't do it," she says, stepping away from the tree to allow me clearance. _Well, least she's lightening up a little bit…_

"Oh, is that a challenge?" I ask rhetorically, cocking my head while looking at Snivy for maximum effect. Snivy just shrugs and gesticulates to the tree, wanting me to proceed.

A few seconds later, I explode from a stand to a sprint, bent on the tree's felling. I close in and leap, turning my strong, right shoulder towards the tree. The leap propels me up, positioning me to take on a weaker portion of the tree instead of its stronger base.

My shoulder collides into the tree with a heavy force, enough force to activate Newton's Third Law, deflecting me back and away from the tree. As I hit the bristly grass below, I hear a large snap. Looking at the tree, it falls over. And as expected, the tree plugs up the hole from the bridge, forming an organic, makeshift bridge.

"Well done!" Snivy cheers, applauding me. Sitting up, I just make a sort of bowing motion. Snivy walks over to the bridge just as I begin to get myself up from the ground. She draws a vine and attempts to push the new bridge. No matter how hard she tries, the tree does not even wobble from the vine's force.

"It's safe!" Snivy confirms, withdrawing her vine.

"See? I'm useful!" I celebrate, up on my feet. I'm glad I can actually be a decent Axew, being a human. I wait for Snivy's next action; she's the leader from here.

"Ok, let's carry on," she announces, leaping onto the fallen tree. I wait and watch her cross the bridge. She's not using her arms for balance; a good sign. She reaches the other side with great ease and jumps off the bridge, landing on the grassless rock of the other cliff. I follow suit and climb up onto the bridge myself. As soon as I got on the bridge, the memories of the last bridge I crossed assault my mind. I find myself hesitating to move, trying to clear the harrowing memory out of mind.

"Hey," Snivy calls out, breaking me from my recollection of the past. I look over to her in response. She's on the edge of the other cliff side, with both vines drawn and resting high above her head in the air.

"If you fall, I will catch you!" she reassures.

"_Time after time!_" I whisper in tune, smiling from Snivy's remark. With thoughts clear, I begin to slowly cross the tree. My hands are out as I do so, just in case if I did end up losing balance. But the mighty tree holds my weight much better than the wood bridge, and I get across the gulch without incident. I leap off the tree bridge, ready for the next cave.

"Good," Snivy says with a nod, withdrawing her vines. She turns from the gulch and heads into the abyss of the cave entrance, appearing much more confident. I follow closely, hoping that the second cave expedition will run smoother than the first.

This cave doesn't look that much different than the last, aside from the obvious room size differences. It's the same shadowed, damp rock like before, surrounding us on all sides. Snivy stops for a moment, sensibly allowing my eyes to re-adjust to the dark. After a few minutes, Snivy moves into the nearest corridor on the right; the only corridor leading out of the room, rather. I fall in to follow, but I don't get time to, as Snivy quickly backpedals from the corridor upon taking a few steps into it.

"There's a Woobat on the ceiling!" Snivy whispers in fright. This fright is justified; these caves, and these Pokémon are no joke. I learned that in the last cave.

"Woobat?" I ask in my lack of knowledge. I'm quickly answered by a hasty-sounding flapping noise.

"It's coming!" Snivy exclaims in fright. A small, blue bat creature, nearly Snivy's size, emerges from the corridor. It rushes at Snivy, with the same vengeance my Drilbur had. The Woobat engages Snivy, beating her with its awfully disproportionate-looking black wings. All Snivy does is cover herself with her little arms, but they won't be enough! Snivy falls to her knees from the attacks, feebly defending herself, and not attempting to fight back. She's taking heavy damage, and it looks like the Woobat has no intentions on granting quarter!

The scene in front of me slows down amazingly. The Woobat's wings are only beating on Snivy once or twice every five seconds, but…Snivy's in the same slowed state, too. It's almost like I'm watching a replay on Sports Center; slowed down for in-depth analysis.

Suddenly, a malevolent thought crosses my mind. _I could leave her to die here. She's only a hindrance._ …Where did _that_ come from?! Why would I think such a dark thing?! Is that my…inner Pokémon showing?

"Nate, you have the purest of souls I've ever seen. Golden, even." Daniel! I can hear Daniel! Is he bringing me back from my un-human thoughts?

"You're an Axew! Not a beast, but a dragon with potential!" Snivy, too! She's not actually saying anything, but I can hear her! _…They're right! I'm better than this! _I line up the Woobat in my shoulder's crosshairs, and rear up to charge.

"You need to look at life differently," Daniel says again in my mind. Invigorated, I begin the rush at the slowed Woobat. Surprisingly, I'm moving at normal speed. After three huge strides, I jump, right shoulder aimed at the airborne Pokémon.

"No one would care if I died on the business end of an AK-47!" I hear myself scream in my head as I hurtle towards the Woobat. God…was I that hateful of myself? Because surely…someone _would_ care. I quickly brace for impact, closing my eyes. I imagine my shoulder plunging into the bat's blue fur. I open my eyes again, in time to see everything resume to normal speed.

I crash into the Woobat's furry body. It spins away from taking the impact, clearly surprised, and destabilizes, falling from its airborne state. My weight plowed right through the Woobat, leaving me hurtling into the wall behind it. I hit the wall hard, nearly leading with my skull. The force of impact deflects me away, dropping me onto the stone floor…hard. I'm dazed from the impacts, nearly slipping from consciousness.

On my back, I look over my shoulder to see the Woobat. It's also on the stone floor, attempting to recover from the blow to continue its desire to kill. As a result, it writhes on the ground, trying get its wings from the floor to the sky.

Snivy, up and away from the bat, takes the opportunity and valiantly prepares an attack. Vines drawn and teeth gritted from pain and pestilence, she cracks both vines in a whip-like fashion. The organic whips fall on the Woobat, striking it mercilessly. The downed Pokémon quickly immobilizes afterward, unable to take any more attacks. Seeing the Woobat go limp, I turn my head from over my shoulder to the ground, exhaling in relief, waiting for the pain to leave.

"Ahh! Nate!" Snivy gasps behind me. I laboriously roll to my back to see a wide-mouthed Snivy, in obvious shock. I manage to assume a sitting position, just wishing for the rattling in my bones to stop.

"You alright?" Snivy asks, standing in front of me.

"Y-yeah," I stammer, getting vertical. "I'm a little worse for wear, but my thick skin did its job in protecting me from the blunt of the blow." _Once again, another perk to being a Pokémon._ I look up to see Snivy on the brink of sobbing, again. _I really shouldn't have said what I said back there. She's expecting too much out of herself now…_

"Hey hey hey! Thanks for finishing it!" I praise quickly, brushing myself off. "If you hadn't, it would've finished _me_!"

"Nate, I," Snivy stammers, fending off tears, "…thank you…"

"Hey, let's just keep moving," I encourage, patting her shoulder. She nearly shies away from my arm, but lets it happen.

"Sure," Snivy says monochromatically, turning to the now Woobat-less corridor.

"You're doing fine. Let's just get out of here," I encourage further. She nods in silence, leading me into the corridor. It's a fairly long passageway, but we emerge into another small, dark room. My ears meet the sound of a growling Pokémon; two in such a short span? Seconds later, the brown-and-red Drilbur rams into me. Never seeing the rush, it topples me over onto the ground. It swiftly acquires the top position on me, and I find myself unable to trump its weight with my own.

"Hey! I'm pinned!" I call out, unable to squirm from the Drilbur's mounted position on my diaphragm. It growls menacingly before trying to slash out my throat with its demonically sharp claws attached to its left arm. I quickly jam the arm on its drive to my throat with my hands, cancelling the attack. It squeals in surprise from my human, yet unorthodox, move I made with the block, giving me a chance to attack. But without the ability to charge, I can't find any means to attack the vulnerable Pokémon. Instead, I watch the opportunity slip away as the Drilbur retracts its left arm from my block. It's not going to fall for that mistake again!

As expected, Drilbur aims to drive its left claws into my throat, but on a more direct path. It's a stab attack; notoriously difficult to parry. And being on the ground, I have not a prayer to escape the attack by my own means. _This is it. I die…here._ I close my eyes, hoping that I will be killed upon impact of the plunging claws. But it's doubtful; I'm going to have to bleed out before that happens. And that…is painful. I'm almost at peace with the world until I hear a large crack; the crack of whips breaking the speed of sound! And…I'm still alive!

I slowly open my eyes to see Drilbur's left arm constricted heavily by a pair of Snivy's vines. The Drilbur struggles to free its arm, but cannot shake the vines entangling its arm.

"Use those claws!" Snivy yells in desperation, obviously in a struggle to prevent the Drilbur from ending my short Pokémon life. Without even checking to see if I even have claws, I start to swipe at the Drilbur's stomach, furiously and repeatedly. The scratching summons a cry of pain from the Drilbur, causing it to release force on its left arm. As a result, Snivy's vines, full of backwards force, rip the arm back to the Drilbur's side.

The disengagement of the mole Pokémon allows for Snivy to release the arm from her grasp. One quick dual-crack of vines later, and the Drilbur goes limp on top of me. I stop slashing at the Drilbur and guide its slumping body off to the right of me, releasing me from the pin. I gasp for breath, feeling the pressure on my diaphragm disappear.

I pick myself up from my back, unhurt from the confrontation. Snivy withdraws her vines.

"That's how it's done, Snivy! I owe ya one!" I praise in a relieved voice. I'm still, however, catching my breath.

"Nah, you saved me earlier," Snivy reassures me, leading me into another corridor. "I think that means we'd be even, no?" _Well…you _did_ save me at the waterfall…_ I think in silence, shrugging behind her back. _But, she could've let me die there, after all that I said to her…_

The path Snivy leads me down takes a promising descent down a hill of sorts. The path winds down, and suddenly, I can see Snivy's brilliant green back, liberated from the shadow of the cavern. Her whole form is soon reduced to just a shadow as she steps in front of the white light of the exit. Snivy understandably breaks into a run, and I just follow at a walking pace, knowing that we were out of harm's way. Snivy breaks through the barrier of light, and I slowly follow through, craving the sun's warmth on my skin once more.

A few seconds after stepping through the light, my eyes readjust to the outdoor light. Snivy's jumping for joy! How surprising, given her beaten and bruised body. I would think she would lay off the excessive energy use, but she proves me wrong about everything. So, why am I surprised? Because these are Pokémon, not humans. Their motives and reasons are so much more innocent and pure than those of the corrupt humans. I'm sure a human would've let that Drilbur rip out my larynx after what I said to Snivy. But Snivy…is something else. And…I like it that way.

"We did it!" Snivy celebrates, yelling to the heavens in happiness. Her voice brings me out of thought, back to the…real world…?

"I'd say so!" I agree in my own, tempered celebration. _I'd still like to know where my vengeance came from…_ I wonder to myself. _If I hadn't had those voices go through my head…then Snivy would be dead._

"Let's GO!" Snivy urges me, running over to the other cloak of mist from the waterfall that shrouds another bridge. _Yeah…I'm _great_ with bridges_, I taunt myself, hustling to catch up to Snivy, who has already disappeared through the mist. I stop short of entering the obscuring mist, hearing the waterfall's crash pollute the air with brash soundwaves. I walk forward slowly, trying to forget the near-death experience from the other side. Upon entering the mist, something unexpected allows me to forget. An unexpected presence sides me, comforting me.

"You'd think I'd forget what happened last time?" Snivy's voice asks beside me, barely audible from the crashing waterfall. With her scaly body, she lightly nudges me to the right, guiding me onto the wet, wooden bridge. _Snivy…would do _this_?_ With her moving forward on the bridge to the left of me, I keep pace.

The bridge creaks horribly underfoot, stopping me in pure fear, driving my eyelids shut. But Snivy pushes my back lightly, encouraging me to continue moving. _Okay Nate; keep moving forward,_ I will myself, opening my eyes to the misty spray of the waterfall. I continue forward at a snail's pace; Snivy allows me to set the pace this time.

It takes nearly a minute of baby steps until I feel the wet stone of the other bank. I dash onto solid land upon feeling the stone, and continue until I break free from the mist. Snivy emerges from the spray moments later. We may both be damp and hurt from it, but we…have conquered Ragged Mountain! I turn to face Snivy.

"Snivy—"

"It's only natural, Nate. We're a team," Snivy reminds me with a reassuring, gentle tone.

"But…what I said back there; I—"

"You were right," Snivy admits, sighing. "I was a fool to do that. But…I feel that I left my foolishness behind in those caves."

"You didn't know what to do; you acted on impulse! That's what happened when I insulted you. …Look, you are who you are; I can't simply make you change that," I try to console. I turn away, ashamed for what I did. "I'm a mess…"

"Then that makes two of us!" Snivy says cheerfully. "Don't worry about it. I might…reconsider forgiving you, but it's past us now."

"But why…why would you support me after all of that?"

"Well, if I let you die, I would just feel like a murderer," Snivy explains. "It's not all about getting even, you know." How could I forget such a simple concept? The human world, it makes me forget such things. With all of the war rumors in America, it was all about getting even; for the Revolutionaries as well as our armies. I had forgotten that people can still care for others, even after a past conflicting circumstance.

Wars end. After them, everyone tries to get along to pick up the pieces; even former foes. After the American Revolution, we befriended the British…after the Civil War, the South…after the Cold War, Russia. I had forgotten that, not only because of the war, but because of my parents.

I never considered forgiving them and loving them after coming home…whenever they would come home. Maybe I won't be angry. Well…I might not forgive them, but I'll still love them. I just need to understand exactly why they left me, not just jump to a conclusion and detest myself. I mean…they are my parents.

But it might be too late for me now. I'm being punished now, in being stuck in a world where my IB knowledge is useless. Seeing this…I think I had it easy in my life as a human. Easy until I, probably, got myself killed from ignorance, not insanity. Only time will tell as to which one really caused my downfall, to end up in this place.

I think that until I see myself as an Axew. Then again, I'm _here_. Isn't that…insane in itself? I shake my head in frustration, unable to come up with a clear cut answer. _I don't know. All I know is that I'm here now. The past is the past, just like Snivy idealizes; like I idealize_.

"Ok, let's get going," Snivy says, repositioning her bag on her shoulder.

"Right," I say, nodding. "Lead the way." Snivy leads me away from what was the dread of Ragged Mountain, alongside a stream of water. This _might_ mean that she's leading me to a town. Hmm…I wonder how civilization would deal with a human-Pokémon hybrid…

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**A/N: I want to apologize for posting so late on Wednesday…I'll typically post around 7:00 pm CST, but it depends on whether or not my parents are dragging me into something...**

** Keep watch for Saturday; I'm going to post up two chapters! Again, thanks for reading, and please post a review! I'd appreciate it!**


	6. New Discoveries

**A/N: Hello again! Here are chapters six and seven for Super Saturday! Hopefully I can continue to provide you with a good reading experience. If you find that these two chapters do not fulfill that criteria, please leave a review! Every bit of feedback helps! If you have ANY questions regarding something in the story (maybe something I need to clarify), feel free to PM me or leave your question in a review.**

**I'd like to thank all of those who continue to support me through your follows and favorites. I just hope I can return the favor with my writing!**

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As we moved further and further away from Ragged Mountain, the surroundings became more and more welcoming to me. What used to be a path of solid stone from the mountain changed back to the dusty dirt state I had been on when I found Nate. And after the path, the surroundings around it changes slowly from rock red to green once more. Grasses and trees begin to repopulate the environment, painting the landscape with magnificent colors of green. We're not heading into a forest, but it's close enough.

The calming green hues of vegetation are so much nicer than the bland, earthen colors seen at the mountain. I can only wonder if Nate is thinking the same thing, seeing these more hospitable colors. Then again, he's an Axew, not a Grass-type. Err…then again, he's not even a Pokémon…

Finally, the orange-leaved branches of an Oran bush appears over the crest of a small hill, signaling the exit from what was once a mountainous climate. I pick up my pace to quickly reach the bush. I begin to frisk the bush for its wondrous blue fruit. They're the best way to recover from any pain; Nate and I definitely have pain. I don't know about him, but I'm still feeling that Wing Attack from that Woobat.

Eventually, one of my arms brushes against the smooth surface of a berry. With both hands, I take the plump berry from its stem, and pull the freed berry out of the bush.

"What are those?" Nate asks, having caught up to me. I turn to show the not-so-Axew Axew in detail.

"This is an Oran Berry," I answer, extending my arms to offer Nate the berry. "The juice from these berries contains excellent regenerative properties; both when applied and eaten." _I'm sure there's another berry on the bush_, I think in offering the berry to Nate. _He might need it more than I do, considering how painful that gash looks_.

"Really?" Nate asks in amazement, taking the berry from me. I turn back to the Oran bush and find the last berry the bush provides. Considering how big they both are, they might be enough to rid us from pain. I quickly swipe the other berry from its place in the bush.

"Should I apply it or eat it?" Nate asks again. It's such a trivial question…but again…he's not a Pokémon. _He's really not one of us, huh?_

"Eating it will be better; you won't know how to apply it properly," I reply, breaking my berry in half. I commence gnawing on one of the halves while Nate looks over his berry again. Looking reluctant, Nate only takes a very small bite of the fruit. But once the sweet flavors assault his palate, he gains a look of delight. The next bite he takes is not a bite at all, but a huge chomp!

Seeing how Nate is enjoying the berry, I turn back and continue going down the path leading to Post Town, gnawing on the Oran. And slowly, my pain begins to ease.

Not too long after taking the quick stop, we reach a crossroad, bordered in stone. The stream that once gurgled beside us along the path has fallen off to the left, probably into Post Town. Now, what did Quagsire say? He did give me directions as to how to get to the piece of land he was selling, but I can't recall them at the moment. Hmm…

"Now what?" Nate asks, still clueless of everything. I don't respond, trying not to disrupt my thinking. A moment of silence passes among us. The only thing anyone can hear is the tireless wind, whispering through the trees' leaves. Finally, the location of my destination pops into my mind.

"Right," I call out, moving to take the path heading off to the right. Almost as soon as I take that turn, the environment turns from the greens of trees and grass to a dusty, red landscape. It's almost similar to what happened when we were going to Ragged Mountain, but with less rock and more dust. This land would be completely flat if not for the large stacks of boulders littering the place. Without trees, the once whispering winds roar across the area, kicking up dust everywhere across the barren landscape.

"Finally decide to show up, hmm?" I stop scanning the area to see Quagsire standing in front of the entrance to the land, looking impatient.

"Sorry about that," I quickly apologize, setting down my bag full of Reviver Seeds. "We, uh, ran into some trouble on the way."

"Mmm, I'd say so, considering how he looks," Quagsire says, pointing a blue-skinned paw at Nate. Quagsire probably said that because of Nate's gruesome-looking gash. I turn one eye on Nate, but he just gives me a shrug. Seeing that Nate doesn't want to respond, I turn back to Quagsire.

"Well, here you are," I say, pointing to the bag I placed on the dusty ground. "100 seeds. They're all there."

"One hundred, hmm? Hold ten; I need only ninety," Quagsire suddenly says. So I went through all of that trouble just to be told that I only need to give him ninety?!

"Are you telling me-"

"It's, mmm, a discount. I feel bad to have, mmm, made you go through such a hard time to get here." Quagsire interrupts rudely. But he's offering me ten valuable seeds. That's awesome.

"Th-thank you," I reply gratefully, unwrapping the leaves of the bag to take ten seeds out. With too many seeds in hand, I hand five over to Nate so I can keep one hand free.

"A deal's a deal, hmm? Here's your, mmm, deed, then." I can't believe it. Quagsire is handing me the scroll, tied together by a royal red ribbon, of the deed to the land. I accidentally freeze up in excitement once before snatching the scroll he offers to me.

"Mind if I, mmm, take this bag to the market? I'll bring it back here by, mmm, sundown," Quagsire inquires.

"By all means," I affirm, trying to hold a celebration.

"Thanks," Quagsire says. He re-wraps the bag back up and throws the rope sling over his right shoulder. He then shuffles out of the area towards Post Town. He's shuffling out of the area…_my_ area! Seeing him out of my new land, I can't hold back my celebration any further.

"YES! I can't believe it but…I'm a landowner!" I shout out to the world. I toss my hands into the air, showing the world my new deed in my left hand. _And I'm that much closer to fulfilling my dream…_

"Awesome. How many acres did you buy?" Nate suddenly asks me without emotion. I settle my arms back to their sides and turn to him. I accidentally turn into his gaze; his perplexing set of green eyes. But…I'm not paralyzed from them anymore. They just look like a pair of interesting eyes, nothing more. _I guess they've told me all they wanted to say…_

"Wait…do you even know what an acre is?" Nate asks again in response to my silence. Now that I think about it…I have no idea what he is talking about.

"No; I don't think anyone does," I reply, wondering what other things Nate could know that we might not. He _is_ something else, not a Pokémon. I have no idea why that fascinates me, but it does.

Nate puts on a face of frustration after my response.

"Pardon my…human speak," Nate says sadly, dropping his head to look at his seeds I had given him. It's pretty darn clear why he's so frustrated. He only knows what his kind knows, not what normal Pokémon know. Just having all of your knowledge reduced to nothing…would be pretty frustrating…

"Why would I be sent here? Where I can't even use what I know?" Nate suddenly asks aloud to himself. Yeah…why _would_ he be needed here? Maybe I should talk to him about it. But…it seems like he might mentally collapse if I asked such a thing. He'd collapse from himself…

"Want to take a look around town?" I suggest, trying to change the topic from his meaningless word. And, personally, also because I've never seen Post Town myself…ever. I've only known the forest; never one town. I was so lucky to run into Quagsire; to get a chance to live normally, to live a dream! But Nate might never…never live normally again. If he's here forever, I can only wonder how terrible he'll feel.

"I guess," Nate says in a depressed tone. So is this world his pain and suffering? Is being here making Nate sad? Is this why I saw what I saw in his eyes? Subconsciously, I start walking in the direction of Post Town. Oh Arceus…save him.

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Nate stops on the bridge spanning the distance from a bank of the stream we saw coming from Ragged Mountain to Post Town. Nate's not scared of the bridge this time, but is doing something else. He moves to the edge of the bridge and looks down into the crystal clear water below. _What could he be doing now?_ As soon as Nate looks over the edge, he backpedals quickly from the edge, as if something frightening were in the water.

"That's strange," Nate says, mystified.

"What? What's strange?" I ask, looking at him in concern. He turns to me.

"I'm not frightened by what I've become," he explains to me. Nate touches his ivory-colored tusks coming from both ends of his mouth, then his dark green horn on the top of his head.

"These tusks and this horn aren't _that_ strange. I'm fearful…of my eyes." Well, that _is_ strange; to be scared from something as subtle as one's eyes. Yet when every other part of him has probably morphed into something else, he can't stand his eyes.

"Why's that?" I finally ask out of curiosity.

"They…they are the reason why I'm here," Nate slowly says, looking up to me.

"That's not possible! Are you telling me that your eyes are human?"

"It is possible, and it is true," Nate says sadly. "I mean, I still have a human set of intelligence, don't I? So why not a human trait or two?" It's hard to argue with that logic. It just makes me wonder exactly how smart Nate was when he was a human. But, it was just as simple as looking at himself and defending what he saw. I guess that can't make anyone smart, but that was some pretty good reasoning. Hmm…

"When I first met you, Nate, those eyes were the first things telling me you weren't any other Axew," I admit, crossing the bridge to reach the outskirts of town. "Axew normally don't have such…bizarre eyes."

"Well, you could figure that from my name, too," Nate reveals, following me across.

"Nate, your eyes have some characteristic-"

"Come buy your adventure supplies here! Big sale on whatever you need!" interrupts a loud voice from in front of me. _I guess I'll explain later…_

I see the source of the voice: A peddling Kecleon, moving about the town's square, trying to sell something to someone. Seeing him move around gives my eyes a good opportunity to look at the town. White stone bricks accent the center of an otherwise grassy town square. A handful of shops, built as huts, outline the bank of the surrounding stream. A beautiful waterfall-fountain introduces the entrance to "Swanna's Inn." A wooden staircase leads up the tall hill that overshadows the town's commercial outlets. Considering how the town's layout is harmonizing with the natural aspects of the area makes it appear well placed and designed.

"What can I get for these?" Nate's voice rings out in a surprisingly upbeat tone. _With that kind of attitude…is Nate truly depressed?_ I ask myself, watching him parley with the merchant Kecleon. _With Kecleon, he seems as happy as can be._

"No, no, I don't want any Orans. I'm looking at that set of parchment you have there," I hear him say again, annoyed by the seller's antics. But I soon realize that he's serious about buying something. I quickly sneak up to Nate, stopping by him, and stand in front of the Kecleon's vast-looking hut.

"I can give you three sets of parchment with a stick for one Reviver Seed. You dig?" the Kecleon offers Nate. How strange…why would Nate want something as useless as parchment, much less a stick? Right before Nate even gets a chance at answering, I pull his right shoulder, forcing him to face me.

"What are you doing?!" I ask frantically.

"Oh! Sorry, I forgot the seeds were yours," Nate apologizes sorrowfully.

"You can keep the seeds, but why buy such useless things?"

"…Kecleon, hold that thought," Nate says, pulling me away from the shop. I try to resist him, but he's unbelievably strong for his size.

"Sure thing!" Kecleon calls back. Nate simply responds in a nod, continuing to drag me away. He drags me as far as the entrance bridge, then releases me.

"Don't Pokémon keep records?" he demands.

"Yes, but no one does it on parchment anymore!" I respond, looking at Nate quizzically. "We keep our records in mud with footprint runes…don't you?" _…Oh wait…_ Nate shakes his head and sighs from my answer.

"I don't. Mind you, I'm not human," Nate dully says with heavy sarcasm. Yeah…I knew that…

"S-sorry," I apologize. I am a terrible friend; I can't even remember who Nate is!

"It's alright; I am something different," Nate assures, tapping my shoulder. "You're looking out for me. I respect that." I only nod in response, lacking any words to say. Seeing me nod, he moves back to the offer he was given at the store. I follow.

"How many sheets are there per set?" Nate asks the shopkeeper.

"About seventy per set," the Kecleon replies, sounding confused; probably because Nate is actually serious about buying something as unnecessary as parchment.

"Mmm…if you can toss in another set and sharpen the stick down to a point on both ends, I can give you a Reviver Seed," Nate boldly haggles. I'm impressed that he remembered what the seed was. He sure does learn fast.

"…It's a deal," Kecleon agrees. Nate lays a seed in front of the shopkeeper on the shop's long wooden countertop. "Give me some time to whittle down this wood."

"Thanks," Nate says graciously. "Come on, Snivy! Let's look around some more!"

**¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦**

We spent the rest of the day familiarizing ourselves with Post Town. More importantly, Nate set himself up with the Deposit Box Service. I just managed to get him to share the privilege with me; I'm too shy to talk to new people, excluding Nate and Quagsire. Nate tried and tried, but he failed convincing me to try and open up a little by talking to some townsfolk. For a human, Nate really knows how to get along with all of the other Pokémon; and really well at that. He had even befriended the Kecleon seller with his ways, who 'rewarded' him with five free Oran Berries. For someone as depressed as him, he can be awfully social.

As the sun dips from view, coloring the sky a calm hue of orange, I lead Nate back to my property. With the Deposit Box Service, I had stored my deed for safekeeping, leaving me carrying nothing but my bag Quagsire had returned. Nate, however, is hauling his four sets of parchment, his double-ended stick, along with two Orans. He had stashed the other three in the deposit box. I reach the entrance to my land, but Nate stops right in front of it.

"Nate? You alright?" I ask, turning around to face him.

"It's your property. I'm not allowed," he says, setting his bearings down on the dusty ground.

"Well…do you have arrangements to spend the night somewhere? Somewhere to go?" I ask again. Nate just shifts his feet uncomfortably on the dusty ground.

"No; I've no shelter," he says sadly.

"Well…do you want to work with me?" I ask. Might as well tell him why I would buy such a hopeless looking piece of land. But…I do hope he stays here with me. I'm not sure why, but I think someone as social as Nate could possibly rid me of my timid nature. Maybe he was right after all…No one goes anywhere being as timid as I am. It's a big reason as to why I used to live secluded in a forest, alone, for so long. But now I'm in the area of Post Town, so I need to change. Might Nate be the solution to my problems?

"Wh-what do you mean?" Nate asks, confused.

"I want to make this place an oasis of happiness, shining through the untrustworthiness of this world," I explain. "I know: That's crazy, and I'm losing my mind. But…what world doesn't need something like this? What world…needs to be a sad place?" Nate looks down in consideration. Is it possible that Nate lived in such a world? Does he even know what happiness is?

"I've heard crazier things. But what's in it for me?" Nate asks, lifting his head to face me again. His otherworldly eyes focus in on mine.

"Well, you'll get a place to stay. But, you'll be stuck with me. Quite possibly as a friend," I say, grinning a bit.

"Aren't you…still mad-"

"Forget Ragged Mountain! Maybe…maybe you were right about me," I interrupt, sighing. "The truth is, I've never known anyone outside of you and Quagsire. But, you seem to know everyone in town. Your attitude seems to win over a lot of hearts." Nate frowns a bit.

"Snivy, that was not me. That was me acting in public; a disguise of who I actually am. I am truly a mess of sadness. I'd be a terrible friend…"

"Then we'll be terrible friends together!" I say encouragingly. "Look: I can provide you help from your depression if you can help me from my shyness. Yeah?" I add in. Nate grins just a little.

"Y-you'd do that?"

"Of course. You may not think it, but you've supported me so much today. It's the least I can do for you," I affirm. "I know you, Nate."

"Snivy…of course I'll take you up on it!" he says in quiet excitement. I just nod in approval and turn around to face my vast lands once more.

"Alright then: It's settled. We'll camp out here tonight," I call out to Nate. I hear him make some shuffling noises on dirt and dust, probably from him picking up his belongings.

"Works for me," he responds. For some reason, I have a feeling that we're going to be a great pair of terrible friends! This is going to be great!

**¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦l¦**

It's night. All is covered in shadows; even the color of the red dust is concealed by the darkness of night. It's a perfect night to spend under the bright stars, in front of a warm fire. I sit in front of the flames of the fire; it's hot, orange glow erratically tosses its orange light around and on us. Nate is lying prone on the ground next to me with a stick in hand, an Oran Berry next to him, and a sheet of white parchment.

Nate jabs a pointed end of his stick into the Oran Berry. Upon exiting the jab, he shows me that the Oran's juice saturates the sharp point of the stick, coloring it blue.

"Why must you do that?" I ask, curious about the unorthodox measure he took.

"This juice here should mark the paper. It'll soak into the paper, making a writing that you can see," Nate explains. He grips the stick oddly with his left hand, and points the juiced end down.

"Go on," I encourage, interested.

"Alright. I don't know how, but let's try your name, eh?" Nate contacts the stick to the parchment and makes out a series of five arcane symbols. He lifts the writing instrument, allowing me to see the symbols more clearly.

"That is English," Nate explains, pointing to the symbols he made.

"English?"

"Yes. Where I come from, that is my language of heritage," Nate adds.

"Language?"

"Spell out your name; like how you would normally," Nate directs. I draw a vine and, in the dirt next to the sheet of parchment, spell out my name.

"See how different these two techniques of writing are?" Nate asks, comparing his English text to my runic text. I nod: There's a _drastic_ difference between the two.

"We can call these different languages: Two ways to portray the same exact thing," he defines. "I'm still baffled as to how I can understand you, and how you can understand me. But that might be a Pokémon change of mine; I'm still retaining my human trait of English writing," he observes. That _is_ interesting, now that I think about it. If he's only good at English, then how can he understand my speech?

"That's really cool," I say in amazement. "We don't need to use that word, language, because runic writing is _the_ language used. I think it's the only language this world has," I clarify. But Nate just sighs sadly in response.

"Well, in our world, there are well over fifty different languages," Nate says, scrawling out seven more blue symbols under my English name.

"This is the word "English," in English," Nate points out about the symbols he wrote. He is now writing down even more symbols. When he lifts his hand, nine symbols appear under his word "English."

"That is also "English," but in a different language. That is French," Nate continues.

"It's spelled differently? Is that all there is to the difference in languages?" I ask, noticing that the spelling of the French word is vastly different than that of the English word.

"Not only that, but it's said differently in different languages. In French, "English," would be pronounced as "_l'Anglais_."

"Wow," I gawk again. "Is there any reason why your world has so many different languages?" Nate appears to ponder over the question deeply.

"If I explained it to you, you probably wouldn't understand anything that I would say; it's too complex for Pokémon to comprehend," Nate says glumly. Although it sounds insulting, Nate probably has a point there. He might have to give definition after definition of human words before I could truly grasp what his explanation would be.

"Simply put, different parts of the world adopted different languages," Nate says flatly, probably annoyed by the un-ability to explain the whole reason why.

"I think that's really cool!" I remark again. Sure it's confusing, but it seems like learning many languages would be neat. Someone in his world could then write up something that no one else could understand. Like, if a heritage English user wrote in French, then only a few others would understand the writing at the first glance. It sounds like a new level of privacy to me.

"Honestly, I like the universal language that this world enforces," Nate says, placing his stick on the piece of parchment.

"Why's that?" I ask.

"Then maybe everyone on my world would understand each other, no questions asked," Nate answers with a heavy sigh. He glances over, looking into the flames of the hungry fire.

"But, isn't it all the same?"

"Well, yes. But…if you think about it hard, we would," Nate continues.

"How so?"

"If my world respected only one language, we would understand each other better. Understanding leads to sympathy and other nice feelings. Instead of fighting and killing each other for something, it could just be reasoned out in a conversation. We would live in eternal peace," he finishes, closing his eyes in reflection.

"Hmm, I never thought of it _that_ way," I say, looking at the fire. Come to think of it, our world doesn't have such global conflicts. Sure, arguments are bound to happen, but not in a way to lead to a wide scale disagreement. Never have there been mass amounts of Pokémon slaughtered because of one; nothing has ever caused such a disagreement here. But, he's a human. He seems to see much more than what I see in the world here. Nate, from that observation, seems fairly intellectual at that.

"Oh well," Nate sighs, slowly rising to his feet. "I'm here now, not there. That's what counts."

"Don't you wish you were back home, though?" I ask, rising with him. "Back to where you belong; where your experience counts?"

"I don't know. From how awful it is there, I think I might like it better here," he says, swiveling to face me.

"But…you aren't from here! What about your friends and family? Won't they miss you?"

"Snivy…you are my only friend I've ever known. My old "friends" didn't understand my sadness. Not as much as you do." He turns towards his nest, compiled of twigs and feathers, with writing supplies in hand. Gosh. Nate really is…in need.

Suddenly, I remember that I wanted to say something about his eyes before entering Post Town.

"You know how I understand you?" I ask, heading to my own nest.

"No. How?" he asks, settling in his nest.

"I was trying to tell you this at the bridge heading into Post Town, but…your eyes told me everything. I know it's redundant, but it's true. I don't know how, but you seem to be enswathed in pain when you are not hurt at all. Even without that gash, I'm sure you'll still seem to be pained. They…they tried to tell me that you can't be happy ever again," I analyze. "That's how I knew you weren't any normal Pokémon: Pokémon are never _that_ depressed."

"…You're my friend because you see through my happy emotions. They were all just tricks of tone and expression; an illusion. I'm…I'm glad you found me, Snivy," Nate says passionately, looking over to me settling in my own nest. I let out a big yawn. _What a day…_

"You know what?" I say tiredly.

"What?"

"When I'm done with you, I'm going to prove your eyes wrong. I'll show you how great it is to be free of sadness and suffering. Nate…I'm going to release you."

"Well said, Snivy," he thanks with gratitude. "I'll hold you to it, because if anyone can do it, it's you. I'll repay you in bravery and trust, if you want."

"Works for me," I manage to say through a yawn. "See ya when the sun's up, Nate."

"Count on it," Nate's voice says through my closed eyes. _Hang in there Nate. I'm here for you. I won't run away._

I can see the dying fire through my eyelids, but I don't take too much notice. I'm way too tired to care; too occupied with my thoughts. Too occupied thinking about Nate…my first friend.


	7. I Know What I Know

Finally; Snivy's asleep now. That's good: I don't plan on going to sleep myself just yet. I'm not the one to fall asleep early on Earth anyways; why stop now?

As the once blazing fire reduces to embers, I bring out a new sheet of paper from the set of paper I got in town. I re-ink my makeshift pen with Oran "ink," and prepare to write. At least no one in this world even knows what the heck English is, so this will be pretty confidential. With that realization, I begin my journal entry. In a standard blue color, I write:

_Events and Findings of 12 April 2014_

_Day 1_

I should probably list stuff down that I learned for future reference. For science. I separate the whole page with one long, vertical line, splitting the page into two parts. On the left, I start a new list.

* * *

_What I Know_

_I am no longer a human_

_I'm an Axew…whatever that means_

_I'm, coincidentally, a Pokémon_

_I have befriended Snivy, who vows to liberate my mind from darkness_

_I have no clue what I'm doing_

_Coincidentally, I almost died today, on multiple occasions._

_Pokémon seem to be better than humans; both in personalities and mindsets_

_As a result, there was no problem making acquaintances in Post Town_

* * *

I almost list all of the new Pokémon I discovered today, but I decide against it. Such a thing would make the list go for _much_ longer than it should go. Not to mention how tedious it would be. So I stop the list there and move to make another list on the right half of the paper. A light breeze rushes about the barren lands, cooling me off a little. Then, I commence writing once more:

* * *

_What I Don't Know_

_If I'm dead as a human_

_If this is the afterlife, a fantasy, or if this is actuality_

_If the latter: If I'm in a different dimension of sorts_

_If time that passes here is the same on Earth, given this is reality_

_How to properly defend myself against aggressive Pokémon_

_Why my own personality changed so dramatically this afternoon_

_(x)Why and how Snivy can forget what I said at Ragged Mtn. so easily(x)_

(I think about the one I just wrote about how Snivy forgot and seems to have forgiven me after what I said. Eventually, I think better of it and strike it out. I continue, making sure to replace the last list item with a more appropriate one first.)

_Why/How Pokémon behave_

_Why I'm so human, yet why I'm still an Axew_

_What I know that they don't_

_If I'll be a good friend_

_If I'm insane_

_If Snivy will actually succeed in ridding me of depression_

_If I actually prefer inhabiting this world than Earth_

(Running out of things to write, I think of the one big thing that I really, _really_ need to know that I don't know. I quickly think of it, and conclude the list.)

_**Why I'm Here**_

* * *

Pleased with my findings, I quickly double underline and circle "Why I'm Here," in the Oran's blue ink to note how important figuring that one item out is. But my pleasure turns to shock as I realize how much more the "What I Don't Know," list has compared to the "What I Know," list. _Oh well, it's a start, I guess_, I think, trying to be as civil about it as possible.

Finished with the lists, I reach over to take another piece of paper; the blue "ink" from the Oran Berry bleeds through a sheet horrendously, disallowing me from using both sides of the paper. With the new sheet, I re-ink the stick and begin the traditional, yet logical, scientific journal entry:

* * *

_ I cannot say why or how, but I have been transformed from a human teenager of the age of sixteen, into a small, dragon-like creature under the classification of "Axew." Alas, I am allowed to keep my human namesake of "Nate" to prevent confusion on my part. Apparently, a snake-like Pokémon by the classification and namesake of "Snivy" found me unconscious on a dirt road today. Not long after I became fully aware of where and who I had become, she dragged me off to a small mountain by the name of Ragged Mountain. Barring the bridge collapse, it was a harrowing experience. With the bridge collapse…well, it was still harrowing._

_ As it turns out, Snivy is extremely timid of the hostile Pokémon that lurk among the mountain. Not only that, but she also shies away from the much calmer town citizens and business-Pokémon. This might mean that she is not the one to explore out much from her own personal devices. As a result, she unknowingly left me for dead, as a Drilbur vied for my termination. I only escaped by the skin of my teeth, lucky that a seed I had accidentally tossed at the hostile Pokémon has/had a wondrous property of replicating a hand grenade of sorts._

_ Upon taking a break in a safe area, I unknowingly made Snivy upset. I insulted her, and she took it fairly personally, and consequently broke down in tears. At that point, my bullet pain came back for a strange reason, eventually forcing me to tell Snivy that I was no ordinary Axew, but a human-Axew. Inconceivably, she believed everything of it, while backing it up with the fact that I still have some human traits as a Pokémon. If anything, she believes it all more because of my demonstration of my knowledge of English (Yet, how is it that I can understand Snivy, given my language of heritage is completely different than that of Snivy's?). After those admittances, we moved on to clear the mountain, moving like a team._

_ I saved her from a bat-like Pokémon, classified "Woobat," and she saved me from a mole-like creature, classified "Drilbur." She's an excellent fighter; she can use her Pokémon-oriented attacks perfectly. I can only do shoulder charges and scratches; I intend on asking her about the matter tomorrow. As good of a fighter as Snivy is, she absolutely folded under the force of that Woobat. Why would that be?_

_ Regardless, I do not have enough evidence or experience from this world necessary to formulate a plausible hypothesis of everything or anything. I can only hope that—_

* * *

"Is that you, Nate?" Snivy suddenly asks in a hushed, tired voice.

Hearing her speak startles me, sending my wooden pen flying a few inches out of my left hand.

"I know that's you. You're scribbling awfully furiously," she adds, opening an eye to glance over me. By now, the fire is completely out, but my now-supernatural eyesight can see through the cloak of night well enough without the firelight.

"Yes," I whisper with a sigh, "that is, indeed, me."

"How long have you been up?"

"I don't know…a long time," I reply, careful not to use the human terms of telling time.

"What's the problem? Can't sleep?" Snivy asks, yawning.

"Well, I'm not the best at falling asleep when the night is still young," I explain weakly.

"Why's that?"

"It's another human trait of mine. That and the fact that this is my first night as an Axew," I explain further. But really, I don't have a good reason for staying up this late without having any homework to do. I guess I got used to staying up so late that I can't go to sleep early without restlessness.

"Sleep is a good thing, Nate. I'm sure it's the same for your kind," Snivy says, concerned.

"It is. But…I can't simply fall asleep early. Even if I try, I'm still up for hours."

"Well, it's your body, I suppose," Snivy says, sounding too sleepy to argue. "What are you writing there?"

"Oh…a journal of sorts," I answer. "I need to recall everything I can to become a better Pokémon. Plus, it might be interesting to read about my development later on, if I end up staying here for an extended period of time."

"Interesting. I'll leave you to that, then. But seriously, you _should_ get some sleep sometime tonight. You had one heck of a day," Snivy says, closing her once open eye.

"Yeah, sure," I agree. "I'll try not to write as furiously so as to not wake you again. Sorry about that."

"Thanks, Nate. Good night," Snivy whispers.

"_Et bon nuit pour vous, aussi_," I whisper back, trying to keep my French in good form. Luckily, Snivy didn't ask me why I said such a strange sounding sentence. Sleep had overcome her conscious once more, slowing her breathing to a slow and peaceful rise and fall of her stomach. I never realized it…but she looks so peaceful sleeping. Beautiful, almost. _Wait…was that actually coming from me or from my inner Axew?!_

Shaking off the strange thought, I reach for my makeshift pen that had launched out of my hand earlier. The Oran juice had dried on the tip, so I stab the Oran Berry again, re-inking the pen. I glance at what I had written, then continue the entry:

* * *

_…my time with Snivy will give me the experience necessary to make a decent educated guess, or make reason of this anomaly. Until then, I must keep my morale as high as possible, and give Snivy the support she needs._

* * *

After wrapping up the scientific entry, I set it with the paper that has my lists written on. I take yet another piece of clean paper. This time, I'll just write a paragraph for my personal feelings. An "actual" entry. I re-ink the stick with what is left of the Oran Berry's juice and commence writing once more; hopefully for the last time tonight.

* * *

_I'm an Axew. What is happening to me? How is this even all possible? At least I have finally met someone who _actually_ understands me: Snivy. She's a little shy, but she has one of the biggest hearts I know. To befriend such a miserable human as I is brave in itself, I'd think. I just hope I won't screw anything else up. I must maintain my "pure soul," not this wild, Pokémon one that wants to change my personality into one. I just hope that my insanity won't make me into something else. It already has once; another time would be disastrous._

* * *

For good measure, I sign my name on the foot of the paper with my personal entry. I set the last journal entry with everything else I wrote tonight, along with the double-ended stick on top as a paperweight. Finished with my writing, I lay back on the not-so-comfortable nest of straw and feathers. Aside from the prickly bedding, the night is perfect: No clouds dare to litter the sky, complete with a comfortable temperature; neither too warm nor cold. The small breeze that blows once in a while never makes the temperature uncomfortable, but just adds to the beauty of the already perfect night.

I'm gazing at the stars, as if they hold an answer to the world among the small light they provide. One of them seems to move steadily across the sky scape. I almost automatically assume that it's a plane…until I realize that the world I'm in probably doesn't have such marvels of machinery. I mean, come on! Imagine Pokémon, riding in a Boeing 747! I certainly can't!

Looking away from the shooting star, I try to recognize a constellation in the sky. I obviously can't in a new world like this, but it's tempting seeing so many stars in the sky. Since there isn't a huge, lit-up city nearby, the night sky is a mess of starlight, appearing to not be hiding even one ball of plasma. What a sight; it's a sight I'd probably never see in Galena. A sight that I probably could never even see in America!

_Yeah…maybe this place isn't as bad as I first thought_, I think, closing my eyes. _I'm actually…needed here. That's a plus, right?_

But as much as I try, I cannot forget my parents' resentment. Snivy understands my troubles, but she's still a stranger to me. But with her, I feel like my thistle of darkness may finally thin out for good. No one on Earth has ever given me that kind of feeling…ever. Is it actually possible that Snivy can rid me of my pain? Well…I guess the real question is if she can rid herself of the title "stranger." If Snivy can do that, she could probably do anything; including making me happy once more. And…she'd be the first person who could do such a thing. Well, she seems more than qualified to do so. Man…I really hope she can!

* * *

**A/N: Thanks again for reading! As you can see…Nate can act really smart if he wants to, but he can't use a lot of that knowledge in the world he lives in. It's very frustrating for him to not know anything, and to start from scratch.**

**Hopefully this won't be an issue, but…I have suffered a sprain on my left wrist playing ice hockey. It hurts a lot to write! I might write slower, causing me to be unable to post double chapters in the near future, but I will post a double chapter for Wednesday. It won't really be a double chapter, given how short one of those chapters is going to be, but it will be a double chapter post nonetheless! **

**Anyways, thank you for reading the story again, and please leave a review so I can improve my writing. It's all so I can give the readers a more enjoyable experience!**


	8. Rainbows at Night

**A/N: Here is my 6/5/13 posting. I hope I can keep you all riveted to the plot, despite how it shares some plot with **_**Gates to Infinity**_**! If I'm not doing that right, please let me know via review. I'll see what I can do, if that's the case.**

**With this, I would like to advise to everyone who is religiously reading this, may you be a follower/fav-er or not, to pay close attention to the text. There are going to be a few bits and pieces that will be critical in the later parts of the story. In other words...look out for some potential foreshadowing.**

**That's enough from me. Here's your two chapters!**

* * *

"HA! You think for a Pokémon as small as you can defeat such a being as ME?!"

A thunderous voice reverberates around me wildly, jolting me awake. At once, I can notice that I am not in Snivy's land. All I can see is darkness; the never-ending color of a dark, black void, darker than the darkest of nights. I try to move around, but my muscles will not respond. I'm stuck here in the dark, with what sounds to be like something that wants me dead. Well, _that's_ news to me.

Suddenly, I feel myself move at an extremely high speed to a different position. I'm not sure what position due to the disorienting surroundings, but I can feel air move around me. I'm not moving, but something else is moving me. I'm slowed to a stop, but I feel as if I haven't even moved at all; I can still only see the same darkness as I saw earlier.

"Maybe not a Pokémon," I hear my voice say with confidence. _Wait, I didn't say that! What in the world is going on here?_

"Don't tell me that!" the thunderous voice replies in an annoyed tone. _What does this all mean? Is this even real? It can't be, can it?_

"Come out here and fight me like a true warrior! Stop cowering in the shadows!" I hear myself demand angrily. And still, I can't see anything but darkness.

"Why should I? Every warrior knows that you should take advantage of your surroundings, no?" the other voice thunders out maniacally. Suddenly, a huge beam of yellowish light rushes at me. Despite the light, nothing around it illuminates from it. _That's strange…_ I think until I realize, _I need to get out of the way!_ I desperately try to move myself out of the light's path, but I can't! I'm still not in control of myself!

The beam of light makes a direct impact, straight into my solid sternum. The burning pain resulting immediately after is of a nature that I've never experienced before. As I'm hurtled backward from the blast, I can also feel the blunt force from the light, as well as a burning sensation. As if something tackled me and burned me at the same time. And…damn! It hurts _way_ too much! Even more than the bullets I took!

I fly for what feels like forever from the impact until I finally hit solid ground. I tumble uncontrollably along the ground until, finally, am stopped on my back by the ground. As much as I would like to lie there, to recover from the pain, I'm forced to what I feel to be a standing position. And, despite all of the pain I feel, I do not stagger or falter. I stand strong, against the un-seeable enemy.

"Show yourself, dammit! Or I'll kill you!" I hear myself yell out in fury, strangely without a hint of pain.

"Why? It's not like you're going to spare me if I do!" the other voice calls back, strangely shaky.

"You leave me no choice!" I hear myself call back. After that, something forces my right arm to rise up high into the air above. _I'm…holding something?_

White light pours out of whatever the heck I'm holding, lighting the whole area in its white glamour. I can't move my head up to see exactly what I'm holding up, but something moves my right hand from over my head to just in front of my gut. The thing I'm holding extends all the way up to my face. Oddly enough, I'm not even blinded by the light the object is expelling.

It appears to be a rod of light. I look at it more closely, but the thing is so drenched in light that I can't even make out anything else other than it being a source of light. Who knows what it could be?

"So, you finally found me, eh?" I hear the voice say, not sounding afraid from the aspect. Something makes me move the rod of light away from in front of my face to my right side, pointing up to the head of a massive creature. Something moves my left hand to grip the rod, but I'm too busy looking at the creature, in awe.

It's cloaked in a white fur of sorts, with sort of a grayish-black underside and chest. Its face also has this gray skin going for it where the fierce eyes and mouth are housed, with the rest of the face covered in the primary white fur. Despite standing on four legs, it's awfully massive.

It's facing directly at me, with its bright green eyes staring me down. And…what's this?! Something circular that is jutting out of the back of the creature is changing colors…from a dark black color to a brilliant gold. Several other parts of its body changed from black and sinister red to this royal shade of gold and bright green. What happened there?!

"I applaud your effort. Now follow up and kill me! Slay me like you said you would, you undeserving creation!" the huge creature calls out, squaring itself up with me.

"With pleasure! Rrrraaaggghhh!" I begin making a mad dash towards the colossal creature, rod poised for its head. And soon after I start the charge, all of the surroundings disappear in a blanket of blinding white. Everything…gone.

"Y-you came?" Ah! The dreamy voice that I heard when this all started! For whatever reason, the last scene had faded away to white. And now, a much more calming environment of a pulsating array of rainbow colors. I still can't move anything, but I _can_ move my head. I look down at the rest of my Axew body to figure out why: I'm suspended in space, for some reason.

"Thank goodness you came!" I hear the seemingly magical voice speak out again. With control of my body, I prepare questions to answer some of my journal questions.

"W-why was I brought here?"

"No ordinary Pokémon can save me, you know!" the voice replies, giggling a little. "Besides, when I found you, you didn't seem that better off anyway. Might as well save you some trouble, eh?"

"Why me, though? I'm not mentally sound enough to take-"

"I already told you! Your soul was all I needed to deem you worthy," the voice replies. "Ahh! I'm in trouble again! Just…help me!"

"But how? Where?!" I ask the voice desperately. But I get no other response. Damn; that wasn't useful at all!

Slowly, the colors surround me disappear. As they did, I also notice that what's left of the pain I got from the previous vision is also disappearing with the colors. And the once vibrant colors of the rainbow now give way to darkness once more; back to how this all started.

"Just…help me!"


	9. The Battle Plan

Not too long after losing sight of those intense colors of the rainbow, I find myself opening my eyes again. I'm still on my back from my star-gazing position from last night. But instead of seeing the starry scape of the night sky, I see a starless, blue sky in its stead. Today, a few cumulous clouds slowly race across the sky, encouraged by the push of the wind. _It was all…a dream?_ I lift my left hand to the sky to check. It's still a three-fingered hand of sorts, colored army green and covered by thick skin. _Well…not _all_ of it was a dream, I guess._

I sit up from lying on the bristly nest and yawn widely. Yeah…I'm still _here_. In Snivy's desolate land, lined with rocky hills and colored by the loose red clay. Nothing's out of the ordinary, I guess. I don't even know why I use that statement anymore. Nothing _is_ ordinary, it's just…oh, I don't know. When would ordinary be different? Is that even possible?

I turn to see if my journal pages were where I had left them before going to sleep the night before. But no…? I quickly shift my view from the empty space on the ground to Snivy. She's there, gnawing on an orange and purple berry…reading what I wrote.

"Do you understand _any_ of that?" I ask Snivy, lying prone while reading my writing.

"Hey, you're up!" Snivy says delightfully, looking up at me. "And no, I can't read this. It's just that…the way you write fascinates me," she adds, looking over the English text some more.

"Well, gee! I'm flattered!" I exclaim, amused. "Did you, uh…want to learn more about it?"

"No. It's just…neat looking at something else for a change," Snivy says, straightening out the leaves of paper on the ground.

"Seriously: I can teach you if you want," I press, seeing her interest. "And, you could teach me runic."

"I might have to take you up on that later, but," Snivy pauses to slide the pieces of paper over to my nest, "not now. Thanks for the offer, though!"

"But yeah…I know what you mean by looking at something different for a change of pace," I agree, gathering up the small amount that makes up my journal. _Or do I? This whole world is different. _Do_ I like it more here?_

"Hungry?" Snivy asks with a tone rising in key.

"Sure," I reply. "Watch'ya got?" Snivy reaches into her now nearly empty bag and produces a berry from it. The berry appears the same one as the berry she has nearly finished herself. It's about as large as an Oran in the way she has to hold it with both hands.

"This is a Chesto Berry. Gives you lots of energy for the day," Snivy states, setting an amber eye upon me. Setting the berry on the ground, she draws a vine and pushes the berry over to me.

"Thanks," I say, picking up the fruit with both hands. I bring it up to my mouth and take a bite out of the orange-and-purple berry. There is not a problem with biting into the seemingly blueberry-soft Chesto. Once the meat of the berry reaches my taste buds, I can surprisingly put a worldly comparison on the taste. It reminds me what a dragonfruit would taste like when combined with an orange. It's certainly not as sweet as an Oran, but it's sweet enough to give me a good impression on the taste. The taste quickly disappears, and I swallow the chunk I bit off.

"It's mighty fine," I observe out loud. I rip off another part of the Chesto with my mouth and chew on the tropical-tasting fruit once more. If it tastes this good, I could finish it easy!

"I know! It's the best breakfast food out there, is it not?" she rhetorically asks, tossing the last of her berry into her own mouth. I agree with simple silence and look to the sky again. The morning sun is fairly intense, lighting the sky to its famous blue hue. But, again, a few cumulous clouds hang in the sky today. Gazing at their fluffy and comforting appearance causes my mind to go adrift in thought. What in the world were those dreams even about? What the heck was that thing I saw, and why was I so angry at it? And why won't the dreamy voice just fess up and explain why I'm even here? It's so frustrating beyond belief!

"Nate?" Hearing Snivy speak returns me from my state of wonder. I turn to see her pointed head, with one eye still fixed on me.

"What do you think about? You seem to…drift off a lot." _Wow…she's good._

"I guess I'm still confused as to why I'm here," I lie. "It's all so…strange. I try to make sense of it but…" I can't finish the sentence from the lack of the right word. Instead, I just sigh. I guess it's not _all_ a lie.

"I see," Snivy says, nodding slowly in understanding. "You seem to be really troubled by it. I would tell you why you're here, but I'm not exactly in the know," she adds with a look of sympathy.

"I guess I'll figure it all out with time," I say blankly, shrugging. "But thanks for caring about me. You're the only one I've got here." Snivy gives me an approving nod.

Thinking back to what I need to learn to better myself, I remember about the need to refine my stance on battle; both in retrospect as to what to do and how to act when doing so. As a human, I have never needed to battle anything but myself. But now, I need to actually defend myself. I have a feeling that my limited knowledge in martial arts won't get me too far in this world.

"Snivy, first thing's first: I need to learn how to defend myself," I relay to her. "I'd hate to be put in another situation like when I was at the mercy of a Drilbur. I can't just make charge after charge and think I'm good at fighting." Snivy quickly jumps to her feet in what seems like excitement after I say that.

"Well, I guess that calls for a spar, eh?" Snivy says, grinning. With only having finished my berry halfway, I rise to a stand slowly. _If I'm going to get better…then it's the only way._

"Look, do you have anything more urgent to do at the moment?" I ask. "Because I don't want to get in the middle of any schedules. But if you have time, I'm all for it."

"I went into town this morning to gather the breakfast. The only shop that was open this early was Kecleon's," Snivy clarifies. "So I'd say that we have plenty of time!" As scary as sparring sounds, I'm glad she said that. Again, I'm useless in a fight unless if I know what I'm doing. In this world, it's inevitable that I'm going to fight again. I've got to be ready.

"Ok. Let's do it!"

**·◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊·**

We're standing on a flat, clear surface on Snivy's property that she pointed out shortly after agreeing to a spar. The surroundings are the same as everywhere else, with the same red clay everywhere with some rocks and a few fallen trees. But this area happened to be barren and vast enough to hold such a sparring session. Even the ground below is softer than the rest of the land's ground, making it seem like it was made for sparring. In traditional style, I stand on one end of the expanse, and Snivy on the other.

"Let's try not to get anyone seriously hurt here," I call out nervously. It's obvious why I'm nervous. I'm fighting someone who's smarter in battling and stronger than I am. I'm having serious doubts that I could even land one good shot on Snivy.

"No guarantees!" Snivy says, laughing a little. God; she's going to make some quick work of me. I guess that doesn't matter here; I just need some training. Anything is better than nothing.

"At your ready, Nate!" Snivy announces, giving the first move to me. I take a deep breath, and begin to prepare myself to make a rush at Snivy. But as soon as I rear down to gather up energy, Snivy springs into action.

"Focus Energy counts!" she calls out, closing in on me. And my, can she do so quickly! Still a bit surprised by her antics, I start my rush at her. I don't plan on attacking her fully, though. I just want to examine what she would do in this situation. Surely she would do something smart…because right now, she's smiling like a jackal. She's got something unexpected up her sleeve, huh?

When I'm about ten feet away, she draws vines and readies them above her. _Of course she would use those thi—_

Snap! Snivy strikes both of her vines on my legs, entangling them long enough to send me way off balance. I can't do anything but hurtle into the soft earth below. Snivy just sidesteps me as I slide by on the ground. The whip, surprisingly, didn't hurt as much as it did to crash into the ground.

"You're just letting me win, huh?" Snivy taunts behind my back. I quickly jump up, back on my feet in an upward position. As I try to dismiss the pain from grinding against the ground, I hear the telltale crack of Snivy's whips again, coming from my right. I turn just in time to see the whips wrap around my stomach, stopping my turning motion square in front of her. Snivy squeezes the vines around my diaphragm, disabling my ability to breathe properly. I can only exhale now! How…interesting that a snake-like creature like Snivy would do such a snake-like maneuver. This…is a textbook…attack, like how a…real snake would…make a kill!

"This is boring," Snivy says melodramatically, feigning a yawn for effect. She's…really giving it to me. I'm…losing oxygen…fast. Should I…ask for…reprieve? No…she's holding…me right in…front of her. _It's the only…way. F-forward!_

Feeling faint from the lack of air, I make a sluggish charge straight for Snivy, leading with my right shoulder to deal damage. As I approach, the vines around me let up on the pressure, but Snivy draws them away with a circular motion of sorts. The spinning movement sends me off balance again…and into the dirt again. This time, I'm not even close to hitting Snivy. Lifting myself out of the earth, I breathe heavily to catch the breath that Snivy had choked out of me.

"That was awfully clever, but I saw that one coming _ages_ before you even got within striking distance," she says. _Well, you could at least work with me, to teach me something,_ I think at her. _Regardless…it's those damn vines! They're keeping me at bay!_

"You've had enough?" Snivy asks, giggling a little. Hearing another taunt ignites the _excelsior_ inside of me, causing me to jump up to face her once more.

"No! You call that a—" Snivy disallows me to finish my frustrated statement by ramming straight into my sternum. But the tackle only sends me a few inches backward, thanks to my given weight. Snivy has failed to send me to the ground this time, putting herself in an extremely vulnerable position, being so close to me. I give her a tackle of my own before she can spring away, and I bring her to the ground. On top of the pile, I quickly place a heavy knee onto her slender chest in human fashion, pinning her.

"Wh-where did you learn that?" Snivy asks, stunned by the move. I release her to show that I actually know my power. Unlike what she did earlier by almost suffocating me…

"Well, I'm a human…" …who only goes to one or two self-defense classes in a year! Ha!

"You managed to do _all_ of that without using a move! Only Focus Energy!" Snivy seems to compliment, getting to her feet. Unfortunately, I can't quite follow what Snivy means by all of that.

"Without a move? Focus Energy?" I ask. _This_ was the stuff I wanted to know, not have myself get beaten up without a sense of what I was doing. Not about what I can do, but what my new Pokémon abilities allow me to do. But Snivy…just face-palms.

"Oh…that's right. You're a…yeah…" Snivy says quietly, sounding somewhat embarrassed. "I guess you're not too capable of a spar just yet. You need to learn about what you can do…"

"Well…at least the spar was somewhat productive," I say, trying to keep her from feeling too bad about it. But, at the same time…I'm trying not to go into a rage for how she pulled so many seemingly advanced battle tactics on such a noob as I am. "But, you know…I don't know how to fight in this world properly…at all."

"Not exactly; you _do_ know Focus Energy and Scratch," Snivy says in thought, "so you're not completely helpless." There she goes again…speaking to me in a seemingly different language.

"What's Focus Energy?" I specify.

"You weren't moving at all for the beginning of the fight. You were preparing yourself to cause damage," Snivy explains, demonstrating what I did herself. "You probably didn't know it, but doing that move raises your chances of dealing massive damage. You were focusing your energy towards me…Focus Energy, no?" Wow. I had no idea I was capable of doing something as sophisticated as that. Then again…I'm an Axew! Who _knows_ what I can do now?

"So that's the name of the move? Focus Energy?"

"Yes. All Pokémon usually have four of them in their attack repertoire," Snivy goes on. "Mine are Vine Whip, Wrap, Tackle, and Leer," she boasts, lightly demonstrating them with hand gestures. "For me, personally, I choose not to use Leer."

"So you executed Vine Whip, Wrap, and Tackle in the spar?" I ask

"Yes. As for you, you used Focus Energy and Tackle," Snivy analyzes. "You know Scratch, so you should know one more."

"Is that all there is to it?" I ask again. "I mean, are those names just names, or is there something…extra?"

"Well, there is one more—"

"Snivy? Having fun with your friend, hmm?" _Is that…that Quagsire dude Snivy talked to yesterday?_

"Quagsire?! When did you get here?" Snivy demands, looking past my shoulder, arms crossed. I turn one-eighty degrees, and sure enough, Quagsire is there, slowly approaching us.

"Why so hostile, hmm? I just, mmm, got here," he says humbly, halting the approach to just a few feet in front of me. Snivy quickly steps up to side me. All I can notice about the blue Pokémon is how much bigger he is compared to me. He's about double my size! I'd hate to end up in a dark alley with this Pokémon…but luckily, there seem to be no dark alleys anywhere. Plus, Quagsire seems to be a friend of Snivy's, so that won't happen anyways.

"I see that you're, mmm, recovering well," Quagsire says to me. "I don't see that, mmm, bloody gash anymore." Really? I quickly run a hand over my left cheek, only to find that it has completely sealed up; like nothing had ever even happened!

"Gotta love Oran Berries, eh?" Snivy chips in. I just nod in awe; this world really is amazing. Who knew that merely eating a berry could work like stitches would?

"May I ask, mmm, who you are? I've never seen you around Snivy ever since, mmm, before yesterday afternoon," Quagsire asks, looking me over.

"I'm Nate. Pleased to…meet you…" I trail off, confused by Quagsire's rudeness.

"Sorry about that," Quagsire quickly says, likely because of my fed up-sounding tone, "but I've never, mmm, seen you around here. If I may, where did you, mmm, come from?" Hmm… do I want to say it? I'm not sure if I want to, but I certainly don't want to lie. _What will I—_

"Oh, he's not from around here; he's a—" I give Snivy a very hard shove for answering in my stead. Luckily, she gets the message and goes quiet.

"I'm a local from Galena," I finish, looking at Quagsire, feeling a feeble attempt of a shove from Snivy.

"Galena, hmm? I don't know where that is," he says, looking up as if he thinks he knows a Galena. "but it's a big world out there, hmm?" I just nod quickly in response. _Thank God that worked!_

"Nice to, mmm, meet you, Nate," Quagsire says, finally showing some decency in politeness. He slightly shifts towards Snivy, breaking eye contact with me.

"Snivy, you might want to consider, mmm, building a house here," Quagsire says. Although last night was excellent, I can only agree with Quagsire. What _if_ it rains? What then?

"Oh yeah!" Snivy exclaims as if she had just remembered it. "That would be a good idea, but…" Snivy turns to me, looking for answers. I quickly shake my head at her, hoping that she isn't planning to say something…amazing to Quagsire.

"…I don't think we know how," Snivy finally says, looking back to Quagsire.

"I came here to tell you that, mmm, some Pokémon in town can build you a house," Quagsire says, glancing at me in his peripheral vision for a second. "Maybe it can be big enough for the both of you, hmm?!"

"Really? That'd be great!" Snivy says gratefully. I just nod in thankfulness. If anything, establishing some shelter should be a number one priority. Hopefully, we won't have to fight more Pokémon for it. I'm still…learning.

Quagsire begins to turn away to leave Snivy's lands.

"They will be in Swanna's Inn. They're, mmm, carpenters, so they should know what they're doing," Quagsire smoothly says in his retreat. And almost as quickly as he came, he's out of sight.

Snivy shudders a little after seeing Quagsire exit the area.

"Ahh…I'm not good with other people, Nate," Snivy says, turning to me. _What a perfect time to teach a lesson myself!_

"You're going to talk to those carpenters Snivy," I say. "Do you know why?"

"Why's that?"

"Because we _need_ a house, and you know it," I reason out. "If anything, you should be more motivated to step up to the challenge." With that being said, I start to walk towards the lands' exit myself. Reluctantly, Snivy follows.

"Well…I guess you're right, Nate," she admits nervously, "but what if they—"

"Snivy," I command, stopping and turning around to face her. She stops before me, seeing that I myself have stopped. "I'm sure they'll hear you out. Carpenters build for money; it's a job. They shouldn't turn you down for that reason," I finish. I turn back and restart my walk to the exit.

"You're absolutely right," Snivy says with a heavy sigh. "I think I'm just worried that I'll freeze up."

"Tell you what," I say as we pass our campsite. "I'm going to look around the inn since I haven't even been in there yet. While I do that, how about you talk to the carpenters?" I offer Snivy. "I'll be there if you need any help."

"As much as I don't like it," Snivy says, "I have to try. Yeah; I'll do it!"

"You'll do fine!" I agree, "Maybe as fine as how you made me look a fool back there!" Snivy laughs out a bit.

"Ha! Maybe I will!" she says confidently. "Don't worry about that, Nate! I'll have you fighting in no time!"

Seeing Snivy as happy as she is…maybe my time in this world _is_ a good thing. If I do go back to being a human…maybe I'll end up being a better person. At least, if I'm even "allowed" to go back to my domain world. If I keep this up, it's bound to happen, right?

**·◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊·**

"Nate?"

"Hmm?" Snivy stops me with a question just before crossing the bridge into Post Town.

"Why wouldn't you let me tell Quagsire about you? About…who you really are?"

"Because," I say, darkening my tone to show seriousness, "no one else needs to know."

"But why?"

"Look at them, Snivy," I command, pointing to the Town's square. It bustles with a number of Pokémon, with the chatter noise rivaling that of the noise from the commons. Other than that, there's just a mess of Pokémon doing whatever. "How do you think they would react to such an unprecedented statement?" Snivy follows my pointed out arm to the square with her eyes, then returns the focus to me.

"I think they wouldn't mind," Snivy says, sounding confused.

"I think…I would get chastised in some way," I say, shaking my head. "Information spreads, Snivy. It might cause me to gain…unwanted attention. And quite possibly…attention from the wrong crowds."

"Well…I _guess_ you're right," Snivy says, still sounding confused.

"Look: We'll tell them when the time makes it relevant," I say solemnly, "but for now, I'm just an ordinary Axew. Okay?"

"Okay…"

"Snivy!" I snap quietly. "This is _serious_!"

"Okay! Okay!" Snivy says, raising her hands slightly to show her compliance.

"Thanks. Now, how about Swanna's Inn: You ready?"

"I'm ready, Nate!" Snivy says confidently.

"Awesome. Let's go," I say in an encouraging tone, leading the way across the bridge into Post Town.

**·◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊◊·**

The inn has a grand appearance, despite the mess of food containers, tables, and several other items. The wood construction gives the inn a natural rustic look, accented by several rugs of different sizes and colors. On one side, there's a great fireplace carved in what appears to be granite. On the other side, on the far right corner, sits a swan-like Pokémon I assume to be Swanna, whom is sitting behind the check-in counter, also made from unfinished oak wood. The Swanna largely looks like a swan with its primary feather color of white, but she looks more contoured down, much more like a passerine. While white feathers spotlight its main plumage, light blue feathers line parts of its breast and underside.

Aside from Swanna, there's only four other Pokémon in the inn's lobby at this time, either talking or nibbling on apples. I'm surprised that there are even apples in this world. Finally; something I can relate to.

"Do you know where I can find some carpenters?" I look over to see Snivy taking initiative by asking the Swanna. The Swanna points, with a graceful motion of its long white wing, to a group of three Pokémon. All of them have the same color scheme of gray with reddish-purple veins bulging out in certain areas, but one was significantly taller, and stronger. They're not too afraid to show that strength, either: Two are carrying large blocks of wood while the bigger one carries a long, red steel I-beam.

After Snivy is guided by the Swanna, she turns to the entrance to look at me. Unable to give a thumbs-up or anything as an Axew, I spin my hand in a small circle; a signal showing that she should move on. She seems to understand the signal and nods. I nod back with a grin, and she sets off to confront the burly-looking Pokémon. Seeing her to the carpenters, I look around the inn until I see a big staircase directly to the right of me, just a few paces away. I see that there's a sign next to the stairs, probably telling everyone what the floor above is designated as. But it's in the mysterious text of runic, so I can't tell myself. I look just to the left of the flight of stairs and see what appears to be a small, old-looking wooden bookshelf. Feeling curiosity getting the best of me, I casually walk over towards the bookshelf.

This shelf is, obviously, full of books! I thought Pokémon didn't write books! There aren't a lot of books here as compared to, say, a bookcase in the library, but there appears to be enough to keep my attention for the moment. My eyes move in to read a spine, but I realize again; they're in runic. For some reason, that doesn't even relieve me of my curiosity. I pull a random book off of the shelf and glance at the front cover. It's in runic. I open the red hardback to a random page. More runic. I close the book lightly, unable to make use of it. _I really could use a runic lesson or two…_

"Ahem!" I look over to the source of the voice, but a find an annoyed pair of Swanna eyes instead. I guess she doesn't want me to lose the place of where the book was. So I smile and put the book back in its original position on the shelf, hoping I haven't done anything else wrong. But the Swanna is still glaring at me like a hawk. Assuming that the problem is Swanna's, I resume looking at the few rows of books on the shelf.

I guess I'm just waiting for Snivy to need help, or get done with her conversation, at this point. There's no real reason why I'm looking over books that I won't even be able to read anyway. I keep looking over the books even after the realization, just to kill off time. After seeing spine after tiresome spine of runic, I work my way to the bottom row of books. And…what's this? A spine of a book laying horizontally on the bottom row is so dusty that nothing is even readable on the spine. Getting a sudden surge of human OCD kick in, I bend over to clear the dust from the spine. The yellow spine, however, is completely blank except for…? There's a lowercase "a" here…

I glance back to Swanna's counter, only to find it without Swanna behind it. Without a pair of eyes watching my every move, I take the opportunity and slide the book out onto the rug flooring. Looking at it more closely, it seems to be as big and as thick as a volume from a "Britannica" series encyclopedia back in Southwest's library…when they were still in print! It sports a solid yellow front cover, with no title on the top, or anywhere on the front cover, in that manner. I open the book to a few pages after the cover. And a word in huge type greets me to the book: _Foreword_. What?! _How in the world…is this book in English?!_

* * *

_This book is designed for the aspiring explorer whom craves thy experience necessary, or to thy veteran whom needs a recollection of all of the topics therefore given. Although seemingly older than time itself, this book will continue to provide substantial and sufficient knowledge every Pokémon should know, whether they be an explorer or a regular civilian. Lisez bien (Read well_ (_en français_)_)._

* * *

Wow! What a find! This is exactly what I need! Something to explain to me what something…hell, what _anything_ is in this world! I quickly flip over two pages to find the table of contents. Reading down, I find a section of interest and its page number, and flip to it.

* * *

_Section 8: The Basics of Battle_

_ Excluding the use of tactics, type advantage largely determines how and if a battle is won or lost. Several Pokémon will have many different kinds of types; some may even have two types at once! A well-seasoned and well-trained individual will be able to identify the opponent's type on the spot, and, if possible, use the right moves to deal the most damage as possible. This section will not cover the different types of the said moves, but will focus more on the different type matchups and…_

* * *

"You've _got_ to be kidding me…" A large shadow suddenly engulfs me in a shaded darkness, betraying the presence of someone on my six. I turn, and jump back. Swanna's there…and she's awfully bigger than expected. She doesn't look too happy, either…

* * *

**A/N: And that's it for this posting. Thanks for reading! If you haven't noticed already…English is going to play a role here in this story. It'll make it…interesting!**

**Thanks for your continued support of the story! Please feel free to leave a review if you found something you don't exactly find up to par with anything. I'll appreciate the learning experience!**


	10. The English Enigma

**A/N: I am so sorry for not posting last Saturday or yesterday! I've been slowed down by trying to make every part of the story right and lengthy editing times, so I'm not moving as fast as I would like to. This might mean I will have to stop the double chapters for the time being, but, hopefully the word counts of the next few chapters will make up for it. So here's Wednesday's posting…on a Thursday!**

**Thanks for getting me to five hundred views! It's not a lot, but it's a lot to me! And also, thanks again to you followers and favoriters who continue to support my writing!**

* * *

"Yeah, Gurdurr should be able to help you with that," Swanna says, pointing over to her left with a long white wing. I follow the wing with my eyes to find the said Gurdurr. Sure enough, he looks like he could do some carpentry work. Well…he is carrying that big piece of metal. He looks strong enough to take on the heavy lifting required to build a house of a sort…it gives him a very intimidating look.

"Thanks," I reply to Swanna, turning to locate Nate. The Axew is still at the entrance, like he was expecting me to turn back to look to him. Nate does not give anything out verbally, but he spins one of his claws in a circular motion, as if he's telling me, quietly so as not to break the relatively silent atmosphere of the inn, to proceed with the plan. I nod, and Nate quickly mirrors the action to confirm. _Like he said…they're going to want our business,_ I recall, turning to confront Gurdurr and his two companions. _Alright, Snivy. We need this house. It must be done!_

I approach the three strong Pokémon, whom are generally idling from a lack of things to do. All three sport the same color scheme of primarily gray, with light-purple veins around, near, and on their consequently bulky arms and legs. The bigger one, Gurdurr, I assume, is carrying that large metal beam I saw earlier, while the other two are about my size, only carrying thick pieces of wood under their arms. Standing tall and upright, Gurdurr looks a lot more intimidating from up close than from afar. I _definitely_ wouldn't want to make it mad at me; imagine how much damage he could deal with that metal beam! Ouch!

I've stopped very close near the three. I can hear them quietly chatter amongst themselves, only glancing at me for a second before dismissing me from their attention completely. Gosh I…I'm never good at starting a conversation with Pokémon, much less ones that I don't even know. Usually they start the conversation for me, but…I guess I don't have that going for me here. This is going to be hard…but I won't run away! I left my foolishness at that forsaken mountain; I didn't bring it here!

"E-excuse me?" I ask, voice trembling a bit more than I had wanted it to. Maybe not a bit more…a _lot_ more. Hearing me, the group of Pokémon drops whatever conversation they were having and look over to me intently. Waiting. _Ack! They're all looking at me!_ I think frantically. _They're waiting for me to say something! Oh, Arceus!_ Losing composure under their stares, I desperately try to say something to break the silence.

"Uh…I'm, uh…Snivy," I start, feeling an invisible force pressing on me, trying to get me to fold up and cower away. As a result, I struggle even more to add to my lame introduction.

"Ahh…might, uh, one of you…be a carpenter named Gurdurr?" For just saying something, I'm sweating like I had run for much too long under an intense summer sun. But as hard as it is for me, I maintain eye contact with the three. After a seemingly year-long second, the biggest of the three takes a small step forward.

"Well that'd be me!" he says cheerfully, "but my Timburr colleagues here are also carpenters," he adds. The two Timburr follow up, nodding in acknowledgement, smiling faintly. Seeing how friendly the group seems to be relieves some pressure off of my chest and throat. _Well…at least they aren't beating me up or anything,_ I think with a sigh.

"Great! You see, uh, me and N-" I stop myself mid-sentence, not out of fear, but from Nate's request to have his actual identity hidden. And saying such a weird name in front of these Pokémon wouldn't be following the request. Finding myself without words, I look back to the rest of the inn to find Nate to buy some time. I find him next to a wooden staircase, examining an old-looking bookshelf.

"Ah, me and Axew, over there," I finally continue, turning back to the group, "have a…a request for you, if you'll hear it."

"I see," Gurdurr says, "What kind of request, exactly? A repair, an improvement of some sort, landscaping-"

"We were wondering if you could build us a house!" I say quickly and tersely. _I'm losing it! Ok Snivy…keep calm!_

"Oh…_that_ kind of request," Gurdurr says, hinting a little bit of displeasure in his tone.

"Well…we're not looking for something that's _too_ exquisite," I explain in response to Gurdurr's disdainful tone, "but just something that can keep us out of the elements. Something that'll keep us warm when it's cold; something that'll keep us dry in the rain. Something…simple." After hearing my counsel, Gurdurr turns to seemingly consult the Timburr behind him. _Are they going to do it?_ I ask myself nervously. I did everything right, didn't I? I didn't say anything too much out of the blue or anything. I just hope that it isn't because I said something wrong. And…these _are_ the Pokémon that Quagsire was talking about for us to consult, right? Maybe they're just carpenters, not house builders. But how is that even possible? Carpenters are supposed to work on houses, right? They should be able to—

"Yeah, we can do that for you," Gurdurr finally says.

"Really? That would be great!" I say, sighing in relief. "What would you want in return?" Now that I think about it, a house, no matter how simple in design, would be fairly expensive, wouldn't it? If my empty, barren lands had cost me the hefty price of one hundred Reviver Seeds…what will I need to trade now for a house? This is really weird now…I think I'm more scared of getting the quote for the house…more so than talking with complete strangers!

"I think…that five blue crystals from Stony Cave-just a ways north from here-will do," Gurdurr says slowly, setting his metal beam down on the ground, resting it against a nearby table. _Wait…just _five_ for a house?_

"I-Is that all?" I ask in disbelief, almost hoping that I had heard him wrong in my state of stress. I mean…just five?! I've had to mistake him, surely!

"Well, we're obviously going to need time to build the thing," Gurdurr says, "but those crystals _are_ fairly valuable," he adds, scratching his head a little. "They'll more than account for the cost of the materials required and labor needed…for sure!"

"Well, I think I have to take you up on that offer now, Gurdurr!" I nearly exclaim in my excitement that I had not mistaken the price. "Thanks!" I add, giving a thankful, deep nod.

"Great! Meet me here when you come up with the crystals. We can talk about the design of your house then," he says. _Wow! We're already _that_ much closer to getting a house!_

After exchanging a few more pleasantries with the group of carpenters, I finally end the conversation completely. I turn and start back in the direction of the staircase, where I saw Nate side as he glanced over a bookshelf, to break the news to him. After only five excited steps, I stop when I realize that Nate is not there anymore. He's been replaced by Swanna. And she looks…agitated, given from the minor wing twitching she's doing. Something has gone astray…

"Herdier!" she suddenly calls out to the empty inn, "Please tell this fool that no one…no one in their right mind…can read such a book as this!" Soon after, a four-legged Pokémon just a ways ahead of me animates from its original idling state, quickly heads over to Swanna's position. As Swanna moves over to allow the blue-and-brown pelted Herdier to side her, I'm allowed to see a flustered Nate in the space created, in front of the two. Without thinking about the situation any further, I quickly make my way to get close to the three, quietly enough so as not to get noticed.

"Look, I'll leave! I'm sorry!" I hear Nate say, struggling to get out of the predicament diplomatically.

"You had your chance, but you happened to run into a pointless tome to glance over!" Swanna spits hotly, clearly seething. "You're up to something, aren't you?!"

"I have no idea what you're talking about! I-"

"I'd read it if I were ye," Herdier says smoothly, in a much calmer tone than Swanna's. "It's awfully odd for a Pokémon tae ken how tae read such a scripture."

"And technically…you're stealing!" Swanna piles on. "So do as we say…or I'll deal with you personally!" By now, I'm sure that the remaining Pokémon in the inn, the carpenters, is looking towards the scene; specifically Nate through the barrier of Swanna and Herdier. The inn quickly falls silent from any chatter whatsoever, in wait for Nate's response. Seeing the volatility of the moment, I don't even dare to move in any closer, to prevent any unnecessary added provocation. Nate flashes over a concerned look to me; he's got to deal with this alone. Is it possible…that this could potentially reveal who he truly is? Is that why he looks so concerned?

Nate sighs and turns to Herdier.

"Do you have a translation of the text to prove me right…when I read it?" Nate asks, opening a large, yellow book lying on the ornate rug floor in front of him.

"The only translation hath been obliviated," Herdier says, "but I ken the script. Every single page." _Wait…it can't be! Is that…an English text?_ I screw my eyes a little at the book in front of Nate, but I'm too far away to see any legible characters of anything.

"Very well. I shall recite the foreword," Nate announces, still sounding annoyed from the situation he's in. I bet he's just annoyed because the task he's been asked to do is so trivial for him to do…but it might not be. I quickly stop trying to make a read on the situation and refocus back to Nate, to see what he does.

He turns a few pages of the old tome over. I notice that the pages of the book are tanned so much from the wrath of time that the pages themselves almost appear yellow from age. Eventually, he gets to the first page with markings on it. And those markings are, indeed, in something other than runic.

"Very well then. Let's see if you can read it," Herdier says, laughing once.

"If I do," Nate says, "will you reconsider my apology?"

"If you can read it," Swanna maintains, barely calming down. After hearing this, Nate takes a breath and looks up. He sees the whole inn looking at him, and takes an even deeper breath. He quickly looks down again at the book, and begins to scan the page.

"This book is designed for the aspiring explorer whom craves thy experience necessary, or to thy veteran whom needs a recollection of all of the topics therefore given. Although seemingly older than time itself, this book will continue to provide substantial and sufficient knowledge every Pokémon should know, whether they be an explorer or a regular civilian," he reads out. Herdier seems to gasp in disbelief, and Swanna gains the same expression. I, however, am not too surprised, but am worried for the sake of his identity. _Careful, Nate! You're becoming legendary!_

"_Lisez bien_; Read well," he finishes, ignoring my thoughts. "I never realized how…old the sentence structure is until reading it out loud," he observes quietly.

"It cannae be! This Axew…hath done tae impossible!" Herdier exclaims in shock.

"He memorized it! How else could he have known?!" Swanna objects vehemently, obviously stunned by Nate's outlandish ability…and by the fact that she had been proven wrong.

"Nae. He's too young tae have even have set eyes on the runic transcript, let alone hath heard about it," Herdier surprisingly defends. "He even deciphered tae unreadable part at tae end! Stupendous!" Nate gently closes the tome's cover, showing respect for the age of it. He then shoves through the wall made by Herdier and Swanna, which breaks easily from the performance he made. He storms away towards the exit, but stops right next to me.

"Snivy, we need to go," he whispers urgently.

"Where?"

"Away. Away from this place," he vaguely supplements before continuing his hasty march to the exit. I almost ask him to explain further...until my eyes follow his figure, going _very _quickly in the direction of the doorway.

"Oi there! I must apologize on tae behalf of Swanna," Herdier says after Nate, "but my! Where did you even learn such a dialect?" That word at the end specifically, stops Nate at the exit mat before the opening leading out of the inn. I walk over to accompany Nate. _Dialect? Is that the same as" language?"_ Nate looks down at nothing in particular from the question. He closes his green eyes.

"You wouldn't understand," he says softly and darkly, before finally leaving the building. Just only having seen him leave, I struggle to follow.

"Oi! You there!" Herdier's voice stops me in my tracks. "Do you happen tae be that lad's mate?"

"I just know him," I reply, getting fed up from how Herdier persists. "But why would you care? You accused him of something so…innocuous!"

"That was me, ok?!" Swanna says shamefully. I turn one eye over to see Swanna, right behind Herdier, hanging her head. "I'm sorry about that, but…you know how Pokémon act nowadays. I was just taking…precautions…" Precautions? Ha! Nate was just harmlessly looking at books; there's no way that simply looking at a strange book could possibly be criminal activity! Sure, there's a lot of it going on lately, but that's just not even logical!

As I watch Swanna with hatred, I only begin to notice that Herdier is slowly creeping up to me. Seeing this, I draw a vine, stopping him where he stands. I don't want any more of this nonsense!

"Slow down, now! I ain't tae fightin' type…just the inquisitive one," Herdier gasps, surprised from my sudden act of hostility. I keep the vine as is; resting high above my head, keeping my message clear: Back off!

"What in Arceus's name do you want from him?!" I demand furiously.

"It hath been my life-long dream to piece together history," Herdier says, "and I have a feeling he's an answer to several big holes in tae tomes in runic."

"Well, Axew _alone_ isn't the answer, but his ability is," Swanna clarifies. "We have so many tomes in the different markings that it nearly fills a whole library in the attic! Please…reconsider. Let Herdier…fulfill his dream."

"It's for tae greater good," Herdier reinforces, gazing at me.

Arceus…I hate this! I hate what they did to Nate, and I hate possibly giving away who he truly is, but…I'd hate to break such an admirable dream in such an awful manner. It's not like I _don't_ have a dream of my own, so I can relate with Herdier here. But…now that I think about it, maybe Nate's right about all of this business revolving around him not being a Pokémon. Revealing how he knows English and French is like letting everyone know that he's a freak of nature or something. I've seen him without all of this hype, and I'm sure he wants to stay that way. But like he said, his actual identity would garner him that hype; possibly from the wrong crowds. Then again…Herdier, as much as a stranger as he is, seems right in trying to piece together the whole of Pokémon history as anyone knows it to be. Not that it matters, but…grrahh!

"Do you know why? Why he ken such a complex language?" Herdier asks again. I have no idea why, but the word "language" is really sticking out to me. And…how would he know such a word when I didn't? Is he really that smart? Hmm…I'm approaching this wrong.

As I realize that, I slowly withdraw my vine from its attacking position, to ease the atmosphere of the matter.

"Like he said: You wouldn't understand," I persist with gritted teeth.

"And what? You do?" Swanna interjects from across the room, now back behind her counter. "Because if you understand, I'm sure Herdier would have no problem understanding." I shake my head and back away slowly. This, might be why I'm so troubled talking to others: Because I'll say something I'll regret. Grr…this is going to be a decision that, no matter which I choose to go with, will go awry with Nate. Why am I even still here? I know: Because Herdier has a dream that I can relate to. It's so…silly! Grah!

Herdier sees this and sighs lightly. "You've had enough, eh?" he accurately diagnoses from my body language. "Look…just talk it over with him, will ye? If anything…just do that."

"How about free lunch when-"

"Swanna! Don't make it worse!" Herdier snaps back at Swanna, reducing her to a look of despair and shame. I…I can't decide…but Nate's alone out there, and I'm not with him. If I say no…Herdier might dig deeper into this himself; quite possibly a little too deep, in the quest of finding out what he wants to find out. If I refuse, who knows what could happen to the life of Nate next? And, almost as if my body acts for me in my struggling mind's stead, my head bobs up and down in a tight nod.

"I'll be here, then," is the last thing I hear from Herdier before finally bolting out of the Inn and out of town. But somehow…I can't find Nate!

* * *

With Nate not present at the crossroads, I keep on retreating from town all the way to my drylands. He's not at the entrance of the lands, so I continue through the entrance in search. I check the grounds we had trained on earlier. No sign of him here; just the deep gouges from him hitting the dirt from my punishing attacks made earlier in the day. I then get the sense to check back at the nesting site. When the nests come into view from the short walk from the training grounds, all I can see is the two nests we set up and the fire pit Nate constructed last night. Getting closer to the site, I realize that the only real evidence that Nate was here earlier are the three pages of parchment he wrote on last night. I walk over and pick up my bag from my nesting site. Now that I think about Nate's arcane journal entries…what if someone like Herdier found those? That would cause some frenzy among Herdier's peers; a Pokémon who can write and interpret a, seemingly, ancient language. He _really_ doesn't need this popularity, does he?

"God…that was all my fault…" I look to my right to see a disgruntled Nate walk into the area, head slightly hung, but eyes set on me. "I shouldn't have frisked through those books, but…curiosity is a strange thing that I cannot simply harness."

"You didn't know that Swanna was going to do something like that," I relate. "You weren't doing anything wrong-"

"Then _why_ would she do that?" Nate asks me, now close in front of me. Not only does he search me verbally, but visually, for answers, as he examines me with his dazzling eyes.

"Well…by the sounds of what you've said to me, your world seems awful enough," I start to reply, recalling what he said about those world-scale disagreements, "but ours is in enough disarray. It's like, more and more crooks show up out of the blue every day. Pokémon are getting more protective…and in this case, more paranoid."

"I _guess_ I can see why Swanna would act that way," Nate says with a fitting smirk.

"When you left the inn, she seemed to be sorry about the whole thing, you know," I clarify. "She doesn't seem to be that bad of an individual, but is just…well, desperate times and desperate measures…"

"Well _that_ explains a lot," Nate says sarcastically, crossing his arms and slightly looking away.

"Look: I don't understand why this is happening either; why Pokémon just don't want to get along these days," I say in an attempt to bring him to the reality of the situation, "but Pokémon won't be as trustworthy to others when so many murderers and thieves are arising."

"Tell me then," Nate says with a serious tone, "why do you trust _me_, huh? I could have killed hundreds of humans before this, but you wouldn't even know." He glares at me in a manner matching his voice, putting all of the possible pressure he can manage on me. It's a good question; I did just randomly decide to trust him to be my friend and all that. At first, it was because he just seemed lost and disoriented. But then he told me that he's something different…something else. I trust he's right; I know he's right, because his eyes are so…interesting that they're not even conceivably possible. Is that why? Because he being a human makes him more trustworthy than if he were just another Axew? But…he _has_ saved my life once.

"Well…you aren't one of them. You care for me; you look out for me," I answer from my thoughts. But Nate isn't too pleased with the answer. He just sighs and looks at the nest site.

"You're right: I'm _not_ one of them and I _am_ your friend…but what if this is all an act? A lie?" he presses. "What if I'm actually…not your friend? What if I'm…just a human?"

"Maybe it's just that. Maybe it is because you _are_ a human," I re-answer. "I mean, your feelings, emotions, and logic all seem superior than what us Pokémon can even wield," I explain. "And through that enhanced logic…you aren't a criminal like so many others are here."

"You can't use that as justification, though. Human criminals would then have enhanced logic, right?" he points out. "Besides, if anything, you're more superior than I'll ever be-"

"For Arceus's sake, Nate! Stop degrading yourself!" I snap. "What matters is that I trust you, and that's it! What also matters is that you're making my job harder!"

"How?"

"I promised you that I would free you from your seemingly endless gloom," I remind Nate, "but if you keep doing _that_, you're denying my help. You're reversing everything I try to do to help you!" I add in a rage. "You're so much better than this, and you know it!" I finish, calming down a little to almost plead to him to change through tone alone. Nate's speechless after my tirade. He's in obvious shock from how such a seemingly pitch perfect personality as I could harangue his own being and mindset. But I had to say something like that, something that would make him realize that I can't do this alone. He needs to somewhat help himself out of this mess; Arceus knows that I can't just take control of him and change him up.

"It's just not fair to me or to you, Nate," I add, calming down a bit more. "You do have some complex emotion there, but nothing will change it if you just keep feeding it with your down-bringings."

"Snivy, I…I'm so sorry. It's just…I can't…I'm…"

"Hey, it's a work in progress," I assure. "I'll get you there, and you'll get you there. If you work with me, I'll work with you. Teamwork, no?" Nate looks up and away from me, expression as blank as an unmarked piece of parchment.

"Yeah, that's right. We need to work…together," he says, probably recalling the events of yesterday in his blank faced thought. He looks back at me. "But…back to a more pressing matter…I still don't want anyone to know that I'm not a Pokémon," he adds, "That would cause too much buzz in the town. Who knows how everyone there would tolerate me then?"

"Nate, you can't live a lie forever; you're going to have to tell Herdier and everyone else soon enough," I reply, "but you were right: You've got to wait until it's completely relevant."

"But…why Herdier specifically?" Nate asks.

"As crazy as it sounds…he and Swanna want to be your friends," I start to explain. Nate nods as a light wind brushes by, kicking up some dirt. "And Herdier…is fascinated by your reading ability. He wants to know if you're willing to translate some more books that are-"

"More books in English?" Nate finishes. "I thought that there wasn't such a thing until I found that one book there," he says in wonder. "Is there a reason why that book was so old?"

"Well, maybe. English might very well be an ancient language of some sort," I say, wondering myself. _How _could_ there be English in a tome? Whatever the reason, Nate's becoming a _lot_ more interesting from it…_

"As impossible as it sounds, you may be right," Nate says, eyes brightening a little. "But why would Herdier be so interested?"

"He said that those tomes that are in English may contain some important historical information that the runic tomes do not have," I reply. "In fact, he might be thinking about writing up a tome of his own, updating all of the history books that this world currently has," I add. "It's his dream to figure out the history of the world."

"Well…I'll consider it," Nate says immediately after I finish, "but that doesn't matter now. What matters is getting that house, no?" My heart leaps after hearing that, knowing how great a success I made in the area of interest. "How did that conversation go, anyways?"

"Oh yes! Let me tell you about it at the crossroads!" I say excitedly, bursting for my land's exit, bag on my shoulder.

* * *

"What did I tell you, Snivy? Of course they would do it!"

"Looking back at it now, I don't see why or how I could be so initially fearful of talking to them," I reflect upon the conversation, holding my head high. "But I did it! Nate, we're going to get a house!"

"I must say; you are really powering through your shyness a lot quicker than I'd expect," Nate remarks, "more so than I've seen any human do…or anything, in that matter." I worry about how he degrades his own kind, but he's sincere with the compliment. At any rate, Nate said something nice to me, despite the amount of trouble that I've caused him recently. I really still hate how he approaches his personal plights in such a destructive manner, but I don't regret offering him my friendship at all. I mean, look at all of this support he's giving me! I just wish that he'd let me help him a bit more.

It's almost like I forgot about how shy I was after I finally got around to engaging in a decent conversation with Gurdurr. It was rough at first, but it became sort of…natural after that, like I had done it before. And now that I look back at it…I wasn't really scared to hold back for Swanna and Herdier. Hmm…I really went off on them, huh? Well, it was a different situation, and I had a better goal in defending my friend, but it was a conversation of sorts, right?

"You really think so?" I say.

"I know so," Nate affirms. "Now…what is it that we need to do again?" Right; back on track.

"Gurdurr told me that there's a cave not too far to the north of this point," I relay, stamping on the center of the crossroads. "In that cave, there are blue crystals that we need to get. We need five of those as payment for the house."

"Really? Is that all?" Nate asks in suppressed shock, looking at me in a way that tells me, "You're kidding!"

"Yeah. He said five would be enough to cover all of the expenses," I happily restate. I can't help stifling a laugh before continuing. "I had that same exact response to the cost, but he maintained the amount of five. You're not hearing wrong."

"That's really awesome, Snivy," Nate says in awe. "I guess, all we need to worry about now is getting to those crystals."

"I think you're right about that," I agree, "but I wouldn't rule out a wild Pokémon or two in the process of getting there."

"Say! You know why exactly I was so interested in the book back at the inn?" Nate asks, beginning to walk on the northernmost path of the crossroads.

"Well, you _did_ read the foreword," I remind Nate, matching his movement and pace to the north. "It does sound like something you'd need to read to understand this world better."

"Oh, but how true that is!" Nate exclaims with great animation. "From the short amount of time I had looking at it, I learned that Pokémon have different types, and how certain moves are more devastating on different Pokémon than others," he explains. "And that was just _one_ chapter of the thing! Imagine how useful the whole book could be!" Ugh…I'm so silly! Even during that spar we had earlier today, I never even cared to tell him something as useful as that. Some friend I am! Ha!

"Well then," I say quickly, "I could tell you a thing or two about that; it's almost common knowledge around these parts."

"Well I've never been "around these parts,"" he counters, making me grin a little. "But is it as simple as looking at your enemy and attacking accordingly?"

"Mmm…not quite…"

* * *

"So I don't have _any_ moves to cause serious damage whatsoever?"

"Well…not exactly," I start, "but that doesn't mean that a well-placed Scratch, or attacks after a Focus Energy, will do nothing."

"I guess you're right about that," Nate says with a little disappointment in his tone, "but won't that mean I won't be able to match you in a spar anytime soon?" Sheesh…as much as I enjoyed to show Nate up in that spar, I really shouldn't have executed such sophisticated strategies on an individual who's only had a day of experience here. It's just that…I've never had someone who was willing to battle with me without wanting to tear my guts out in the process. It was really fun to me. I know; that's really terrible to say when I probably made his life difficult during the battle, but it's true. And now that I think about it…I think I'm having fun doing things with Nate. Good friends, indeed!

"Ok…maybe I…wasn't going easy on you. I was having…hey!" I nearly finish the sentence, but Nate playfully pushed me off to the side of the path from what I had said already.

"I knew it! I knew you enjoyed making me look like a fool!" Nate says, grinning widely. "You _know_ we're good friends when you can do bad things like that to me without getting ridiculed terribly!" Feeling bold from amusement myself, I return to his side.

"But seriously, that was wrong of me to do," I say. "I should've just actually helped you learn instead of beat you to shreds."

"Ahh, don't worry about it too much," Nate says, scratching his head a little. "I'm going to get beat up in this world. It's my new fact of life, and I need to learn to accept it."

"Well, don't think of it _that_ way," I say, "it's just that…work isn't as easy here than, I'm guessing, in your world."

"I think that's the only thing that I don't like about this place: How I have to fight to get places, resources and what not," Nate says, looking off to the noon-time horizon. "In my world, no fighting was involved; just endless amounts of boring paperwork." I'm not going to ask him what that means, but it sounds like another thing he's going to get used to. "At least here, there isn't the chance that I could get blown to smithereens by my own people."

"How so?" I ask. Surely, humans don't have the ability to do Pokémon moves; there's a reason why Nate doesn't know how to defend himself.

"It's going to be hard to explain in-depth," Nate says, "but we have the technology to wipe out millions of lives, just like that," he says, snapping at the end of the sentence. "It's really scary to live in a world where you could just be killed in seconds for no reason but war. That's why this world is growing on me so quickly."

"Well, I'm glad you're here," I say. "You really mean a lot to me, in being my only friend."

"I can say the exact same," Nate says, still looking at the horizon line of trees.

* * *

After a handful of silent moments, we reach Stony Cave in no time, without incident. Under the bright sunlight of day, the shade of the trees cannot distort the appearance of the large gray boulders that accent the grand opening of the cave. Although it's called Stony Cave, only a small area of the opening seems, well, stony. Everywhere else around the cave entrance is covered in soft green grasses, a few pompous wildflowers, and a few tall trees, casting their shade certain parts of the grass. It almost looks like the cave is surrounded by a light-density, deciduous forest.

"Well, this is it," I declare, standing in front of the cave's gaping opening. I flick some sweat away from the rim of my eyes drawn from the intense sun overhead. _As warm as it is out here…I wouldn't mind going into the cooler depths of the un-hospitable cavern._

"Why wait, then?" asks Nate, sounding amped and ready to take on a challenge. Even I, compared to the last one, feel a bit more confident in this campaign through the cave. _It's just another dark cave…no problem!_

"I have the lead, I presume?" I ask before thinking about making a forward motion into the cave.

"You have the lead. Carry on, Snivy," Nate confirms in a regulatory manner and tone.

"You know what I say about this?" I ask to Nate, starting to slowly walk into the cave, enjoying the last of the outside's grace of light before delving into darkness.

"What's that?"

"Let's see if we can get through this before the sun sets."

"Sounds good to me! Let's rock!"

* * *

**A/N: I hope that will suffice for now! Again…feel free to review if you see anything wrong with it.**

**Actually…let's try something else. Since I'm not getting any critiques…what do you all **_**like**_** about the story? What makes the story followable and enjoyable to you? I've gotten a lot about how the storyline is good…but how? Tell me those things in particular that you like, and you can be sure that I'll incorporate it in upcoming chapters. It's all for you guys, so please, review!**

**Ok…this isn't so good, but…I will be at an ecological youth summit program at Bull Shoals for a whole week next week. In other words…I won't be posting for a whole week! I know! Terrible! I'll see what I can do the day I get back, the 23rd of June, but that's going to deserve a double chapter posting for the future! I'm sorry, in advance, for the inconvenience. **


	11. Unified Downfall

**A/N: My last posting before I'm off to camp for a week. Trust me…I'll get back to posting these as soon as I can after next week. I'll even write if I have downtime during the camp. Because I'm enjoying this story as much as you guys are...I think I have big plans for it in the future.**

**This is could to be a weird one…or it could be an amazing one, depending on how you look at it. Either way, I hope you like it!**

* * *

For being a cave, this one in particular…isn't as dark as what many other caves would be. That could still be because of my enhanced vision in the dark as an Axew, but it's certainly not as dark as how Ragged Mountain was. I look up to the ceiling, and figure out why: There are small, but visible, chinks in the rock ceiling above. The chinks go all the way up to the ground level, allowing for the noon sun's intense light to illuminate the cave enough to where it looks like we just went under a huge shade tree instead of inside a cave. The chinks almost look like stars in a young night's sky…but they are just holes.

Looking back from the ceiling to around the room that Snivy leads us deeper in to, I can see that the two corridors on the left and right of us, surrounded by the cave's bluish rock, aren't pitch black in appearance. In fact, I can see right through one that leads straight on into another room; that's the corridor on the left. Maybe we'll catch a break with this cave, now that we're able to see our surroundings so clearly.

But with all of this light in the cave, is it possible that we won't see any Pokémon here? I mean…those mole-like Drilburs and those bat-like Woobats would prefer operating in complete darkness, right? At least, that's how it goes in _my_ world. So…I guess I'm not too sure, like how a lot of things still are: Uncertain and unknowing, thanks to my human self. But because of the possibility that we might not encounter any hostiles…I'm not going to be able to practice my battle moves on anything that is not named Snivy. If I'm going to train effectively, I need to do it in a more realistic situation, even if it is a life threatening one. Besides…I could use some practice against Pokémon that aren't as seasoned fighters as the one Snivy is. She absolutely demolished me this morning…and something tells me that she won't shy away from doing it again in another "training session."

Snivy turns to the left, away from the corridor I'm looking at. Not feeling like arguing with the leader, I turn left as well. Traversing on the hard rock of the cave, I unknowingly walk onto a patch of soft moss, relieving both my feet and my mind. _Mmm…maybe I won't get any battle training, but getting that house might be a lot easier than I thought,_ I think as I fall in step with Snivy's pace, heading into the lit-up couloir.

"Mind your step here," Snivy warns in a normal voice, vastly different from her hushed one at Ragged Mountain. _She must be feeling that way, too._ Soon after the warning, Snivy descends down what seems to be an inclined floor. Taking the warning, I bend my knees for stability and press on in pursuit. The light downward grade of the incline abruptly falls to a steep decline, very close to being a sheer drop. I have to slow my progress greatly for the sake of safety, careful not to slip on the slightly damp moss of the gradient; Snivy sensibly does the same. I continue the pace for about five minutes until, finally, the sharp drop quickly levels back off to a flat surface, nullifying my worries. The room the hill deposits us in is ever slightly mossier, but is only marginally darker than the level previous. Not a bad start at all.

Snivy doesn't break the momentum and quickly heads into the only rocky hallway in the room, picking up and storing a seed on the way. In the hallway, Snivy seems determined to take the passage the whole way. But an opening comes up on the left, and Snivy sees something there that makes her take the turn. As soon as she squares herself up to the new direction, a flash of electric yellow light registers in my retina for a fraction of a second. I make a move to turn around to find if there was a source of the sudden flash, but I…can't move! My body isn't responding to any command I give it! My brain has betrayed me once again! Now this…is insanity: When your own mind just flat out refuses to work for you. What a shocking thing to have happen when in such a formidable place as this! I'm just stuck, needing only bad luck to bring a hostile Pokémon to come around and take advantage of my inability to move.

Luckily, Snivy's astute enough to check back to me after the flash apparently lit up the whole area. Frozen in place, I can only watch her facial expression turn to shock.

"Are you ok?!" she cries out, not taking any further action.

_No, do I look—_damn! I can't even speak out anymore! What ailment could've come over me that would cause such an adverse effect as this? Suddenly, a sharp pain cuts deep into my back, making me feel like something is making a meal out of me. Like…how proboscides would feel from mosquitoes, just multiplied exponentially. But I can't tell if it's real or not; I can't swivel my head around to check. Without an option to even cry out in pain, or tell Snivy about the pain I'm in, I'm forced to endure it. But, God…it hurts!

"Can you answer me? Nate?!" Snivy continues to answer me, finally getting the good sense to approach me. But she won't get an answer from me; I'm still unable to move anything. Which, still, leaves her in the dark from the amount of pain I'm receiving now. It _could_ be because of something occurring externally…but this could all be me and my imagination. Hell, all of this-with me being an Axew, partnering up with Snivy and trekking through caves for goods—could just be my mind tripping over all of that blood loss I took before "all of this" happened. Before yesterday, there was no idea whatsoever that I would pair up with a snake-ish like creature. Before yesterday, I had no idea what the heck a Pokémon was. Well…I guess I'm one now. Or am I? Ugh…best be not thinking about those things before I blow my own mind again. Right now…well, I don't know _what_ I can do right now.

A minute or so later of Snivy just giving me weird looks, she finally gets around to checking my backside where the problem actually emanates from…I think. I can't, however, watch what she's doing, thanks to whatever's controlling me. I hear a crack from one of Snivy's whips, and the pain cutting into my back ceases to continue, leaving only a sharp, but achy, memory of whatever happened there. After the crack, I can hear the soft crash of a body hitting the stone floor, then silence takes over once more.

Snivy makes an audible sigh. "Joltiks: Small and puny, but annoying with their cowardice tactics of guerilla attacks," she says behind me. So it _was_ an external force that caused me that trouble. At least I'm not losing my mind…but I'm losing confidence in myself to properly protect myself.

I can hear the sound of berries being crushed into a poultice when I finally regain mobility. I surge forward as a result, being that I was striding when I got stopped. I stop the forward movement, and retract back to my original position. For whatever reason…I can now feel an overpowering sensation of electricity resonating throughout my body. And it's taking its time to ebb away. It feels as if I had possibly received a lightning bolt…but I've never actually been struck by lightning, so I'm just guessing.

"S-say that again?" I ask, voice quivering as my body shivers uncontrollably from the assumed electrical current running through it. If anything…the current hurts more than my back now.

"A Joltik will typically latch on to a victim from a hiding spot once one has passed it, giving a victim a very powerful, point blank Thunder Wave attack," Snivy explains as the berry crushing sounds die down. "They'll follow that up with a relentless Leech Life attack until they've had their fill of blood. As small as they are…they can tolerate a lot of the stuff before absolutely needing to disengage." Snivy then starts rubbing my back. She's applying something medical; the rubbing leaves wherever she contacts my back saturated with an aqueous substance. I try to turn my head to look over my shoulder, but the remnants of the…Thunder Wave attack, I think…keeps me still. As a result, my body spasms wickedly for a split second from the misdirected nerve endings.

"Hold still! I'm patching you up!" Snivy complains, reaching away from my back. I whole-heartedly comply, just to prevent another mini-seizure from happening again.

"So was that why I couldn't do anything?" I ask to confirm. Snivy now contacts my back with another substance, and it stings; more so than what peroxide could. I crunch down on my teeth, trying to ignore the feeling.

"Thunder Wave is an attack that sends several currents of low-power electricity about one's body. It effectively freezes every muscle you have in the status condition of paralysis," Snivy replies, pausing her treatment of me. "The Thunder Wave doesn't hurt until after, and it seems to hurt like you had been hurt by a much more powerful electric attack…doesn't it?"

"I-I'd say so…" I say weakly. _She means low-power as in low-voltage…right?_

"That is from the Joltik's aggressive nature of using the attack in several bursts, up close," Snivy diagnoses, continuing to apply the stinging solution. "And as long as one is on you, you won't be able to do anything about it until it's had enough of your blood, or, in severe cases, when your body can't take the sheer amount of weak electricity being pumped into it," she continues with a darker tone, finishing her application of medication. "If that happens…you keel over, dead. Luckily, for your typing as a dragon, that can't happen to you."

"So…d-did you save my life again?" I ask, feeling a few joules of electricity leave my body.

"Hardly! Joltiks are so small compared to you that just one can't come close to being lethal," Snivy says, dabbing on a less-painful substance onto my back to top it off. Finished, she passes me to the right.

"Just take it as a fair warning: These Pokémon can and will disable you in any way possible to make a kill," Snivy says with a minute edge of sharpness, "and while swarms of them are uncommon, they are what you _really_ need to be cautious about." Snivy re-assumes the lead spot. Feeling a little bit better, I turn around to see the offender. It's just about as small as any other bug I'd see in my world, with a bright yellow body, upturned from Snivy's attack. Who knew that such a small thing could cause such pain? _Well Nate…welcome to the world of Pokémon!_

"Are you feeling well enough to continue?" Snivy asks my turned back. There's only half the voltage of what used to be a lot of it running around inside of me now, so I am feeling good enough to go. I just need to take it easy until all of it finally dissipates. I nod quickly, but I get a twitch in my neck, forcing the nod off to the left a little. _Yeah…take it easy…so when you turn back to face forward…do it nice and slow._

As much as I'd like to automatically say that this world is a much better place than my old one, the only thing that holds this one back is the fact of how everything here wants me dead. Maybe that was true in my old world, but at least there were more people there that weren't as crazy to kill someone than that of these wild Pokémon. And that Joltik event just goes to prove it. Oh well…this _is_ my punishment…

Continuing on the path going left after requesting a slower pace, the path takes another very sharp downward incline. After spending a few more minutes trying to safely climb down, we finally reach the next lowest floor. This time, however, the darkness level nearly matches that of what I had seen at Ragged Mountain. However, it's definitely not _as_ dark as those caves, thanks to how lit up the top level is. And it's certainly not dark enough to see that the room we're in now has several items lying in wait for us; an Oran, another berry, and an orb-like object lie on the rocky ground in the vast room, quite possibly half a football field across, both ways.

"You go get those berries; I'll go over here and check out the orb," Snivy orders me, starting to head over to the far left side of the room, where the orb lies. In compliance, I quickly walk over to the near right side of the room and take the free Oran Berry. After picking up the Oran Berry, which rested very close to a rocky wall, I quickly jump away from the wall so as not to risk getting attacked by another unsightly Joltik. Away from the right side wall, I continue along the wall to the far right end of the room, walking the potential thirty yards to the new berry. I stop and examine the berry as it hangs from a small plant, nestled in the corner: It's a fairly small, red piece of fruit attached to a curly green stem. The berry reminds me somewhat of a cherry, but it's only a little bit smaller with a greener stem. I take the berry by the stem and turn to the left to find Snivy at the adjacent corner, looking over the orb. I start over to her, not walking to quickly, to span the fifty yards to rendezvous with Snivy.

As I reach the approximate halfway point to Snivy, something on the dark cave ceiling upsets a handful of gravel, showering me in the small stones. Instinctively, my head shoots up to see if anything caused it. Nothing. "Must've been something from the floor above," I whisper to myself as continue my relaxed heading towards Snivy. Suddenly, something behind me rams me forward. Surprised from the sudden momentum change, one foot of mine catches a crag in the ground, sending me to the floor. I quickly turn from my stomach to my back to see what exactly shoved me.

"Woobat here!" I exclaim loudly in an effort to get Snivy's attention, trying to get up. But the Woobat flies up to about six feet away and sends an amazing, pulsating beam of blue energy towards me. Untrained in evasive action from such a strange attack, the energy inundates me, stopping my weak backwards effort of dodging the beam.

The attack crushes my brain to no end, resulting in an amazingly painful headache…but it's so much worse than a headache! It's…argh! My God, it hurts! Memories of my troubled past are rushing right in front of me in a vivid manner! I'm…not wanted by my parents. Why would they do such a thing? Why would they make me feel this way? Why am I…?

A crack of whips seemingly brings me back to reality. The attack dropped me back onto my back, and I had never even noticed in my brief delirium. I sit up quickly, meeting dizziness and a pounding head as I do so. Sitting up also allows me to spectate a fight in front of me…but in double vision. As I focus in on it, my confused self recovers, and I exit my ailments of double sight and dizziness, leaving only a light headache.

Snivy's Vine Whip attack must've been what cancelled Woobat's attack, freeing me from pain. However, the Woobat appears to be far from being done; the fight rages on over at Snivy's corner well away from me. _Snivy…diverted it from me,_ I think in awe at Snivy's heroics. As I think that, my eyes catch the strafing action of the aerial Woobat, looking to attack. _Come on, Snivy! Show 'em what you did to me this morning! Strike now!_ Miraculously, Snivy obeys my thoughts and rears both of her whips back dramatically, in preparation for another attack. I rise to my feet slowly, careful not to re-agitate my dizziness or my paralysis, when I begin to see the Woobat become surrounded in a blue aura. However, it holds back in what appears to be a charging maneuver, unlike what it did to me. _It's doing it again!_ I realize, worried for Snivy's welfare. With the element of surprise now in hand, I perform a Focus Energy like Snivy said earlier today. I ready both my body and my mind to cause damage; I imagine myself driving my dragon claws into and through those wings, severing off its flying instruments. Well…maybe not the last part exactly, but I imagine myself more causing the Woobat to fall unconscious. _That's all that needs to happen. I _will_ make it regret attacking us…but maybe I shouldn't attack now,_ I contemplate. Maybe Snivy has this totally in hand; I wouldn't want to steal her kill, right? I don't want to be that guy on _Battlefield 4_ who brings out the shotgun when my ally has the enemy dead already with an assault rifle. Well…not this time, anyways!

I decide to take no further action, and watch the ensuing battle unfold. Snivy, soon after seeing the Woobat charging its attack, snaps her vines forwards, making a loud crack as the tips demolish the speed of sound. But the Woobat does not lose focus in its devices from the frightening noise, and maintains its charging posture. As the vines near the hovering Woobat at breakneck speed, the Woobat takes evasive measures and dramatically loses altitude, to almost on the ground from double Snivy's height. Because no one with a mortal mind could even comprehend the nerves to track the change of location while wielding such a fast-moving weapon, Snivy…will not be able to account for it! Her vines unload in thin air where the Woobat was only a second before. And, oh, does she know it: Her facial expression shifts from one of hatred to one of fear, with eyes wide and jaw dropped in astonishment. And, having successfully dodged the attack, the Woobat launches its bluish energy at her. Snivy makes an effort to get out of the line of fire, but her drawn vines weigh down on her too much, causing tons of drag. Snivy can only manage a mere inch of lateral movement; far too less to dodge such an attack. No!

The energy engulfs Snivy, wrapping her in a sinister blue light. She screams out in agony from the charged attack, and is mystically lifted a few feet off of the ground. She lifts her head in the grasp of the power, eyes clamped shut, and continues to scream horribly, in obvious pain. Woobat, being a relentless beast, sends an even bigger surge of energy downrange, which is effective in silencing Snivy. She's either unconscious…or she can't take it anymore; I can't tell whether or not her wild writhing is coming from nerves or from her own doing. Damn…

…I'm going to kill this thing! I'm _not_ going to see my closest friend die in such a cruel manner! Mark my damned words, you meaningless bat: You will not see the light of day, or the dark of night, when I'm done with you! You're so done! Finished!

My vision goes red as I continue to rage at the bat internally. Forget its name! A creature like this deserves none; only one on its future headstone! Forget who I am: This is the new me! I am a dragon…and I plan to use that moniker to its full benefits! I…have…power!

Finished standing and breathing heavily through my surely broken teeth, I think of the best way to rid the world of such a dastardly pest.

"RrrrrrRRRRRAAAAHHH!" I cry out malevolently, beginning a heavily spirited rush to the nearly grounded bat. Forget my paralysis, my health; this thing needs a permanent lesson! I manage to blast through a distance of twenty yards in a matter of three seconds, with my target still sending energy into Snivy. _This marks the spot…where you will go into the ground!_

I steamroll into the blue-furred bat, wrapping my arms around its body so my heavier weight will not just cause the bat to deflect away, but go along with me, to the ground. The sheer force of the tackle alone is so great that the bat almost immediately lets go of Snivy; maybe a bit too late to save itself! I make sure that the creature gets the most of the force when gravity reconnects my flying self back to the ground. After the smack-down, my claws quickly find and hook into its wings, pinning it to the ground. With the thing pinned, I find the time to rise up to my knees, in a position perfect to slay my assaulter. I spare it for a few seconds to take in its delicious expression: One of extreme terror and fear. It's so fearful for its life that it tries to flap away from the grips of my claws. Of course, the action comes to no benefit for it, except for the tearing of its once flight-worthy wing membranes.

"You should've thought of that beforehand, you bastard," I taunt loudly, "so pick _any_ god and pray..._hard_! You're dead!"

Sparing its left wing from further torment, I lift up my strong right arm and start slashing at its grounded body without further quarter. It squeals out in pain, but I quickly slash at its mouth to silence it, much like what it did to Snivy earlier. I continue to slash at the deserving bat, receiving a shower of blood as a long-lost reward. Its blue fur became splotched with the color of scarlet red; I'm succeeding. _Oh…but you should feel honored to be smitten by a being as me…a human, who can deliver death so quickly!_ I think at it, tiring from my emphasized attacks.

Suddenly, something burning chokes up into my throat. I wouldn't retch in this wonderful situation, but…wait, that's not it. It almost feels like my neck is going to explode from the amount of pressure there is! And uncontrollably, the pressure lets up and spews into my mouth. God…it's hot! Still facing the bat, I open my mouth and choke it out. Wh…

…what is this?! Something to the likes of blue flames are erupting out onto the crippled Woobat below me. It screams in agony as the flames fall upon its body. But not even two seconds later, it falls faint and quiet, no longer struggling under my weight or screeching in pain. After five seconds, I finally realize the need to disengage, lest I kill the thing. The flames continue for another thirty long seconds, firing them at the stone floor to the left of me, having let go of the cold Woobat. And finally, the pressure that once flowed from my throat subsides wholly. Subsequently, the flames I was once loosing uncontrollably cut out to smoke, and then peter out to nothing.

I look back over to the Woobat as I pant heavily with my fatigued heart. Seeing it still bleeding, with tufts of fur singed off here and there from whatever the heck I did…there's no way that this Woobat could possibly survive this. I've done it; I've gone too far. I look down at my hands to see the right one soaked in the Woobat's blood. _Did I…really just do that? _I ask myself, trying to figure out how my mental limits could possibly have the capacity to be a murderous mind. _Damn…at any rate, I probably look horrifying,_ I continue to think in disbelief, wondering how much more blood could possibly be on my body. _Not like _that_ matters…being a murderer is horrifying enough to anyone…_

How the hell could I let myself do such a gruesome thing?! Come to think of it…I don't even remember I got to be so furious at the thing. And then…what were those flames? As blue as cobalt, burning with my fury; how can I possibly muster those? _Is this who I actually am, or was that my inner Axew? Could this be a side-effect to my change, or a reason as to why this world is as messed up as Snivy says it is?_ Now that my mind is reeling…I realize that the only other time I was possibly _that_ angry was back at Ragged Mountain…at Snivy…

"Oh my God! Snivy!" I exclaim, just remembering that I hadn't even given a thought to the fallen friend. Turning away from the dying Woobat, I see Snivy down in a scary heap. Her vines splay out all around her; she never got the chance to withdraw them before she got attacked. I run over to side her and drop down to her level.

"Everything is fine, Snivy. Get up!" I encourage shakily. But she remains motionless, snout-first on the ground. Her eyes are open wide, still giving her that shocked look, but she's still not responding at all. _Don't tell me! She can't be!_ Feeling desperate, I get myself extremely close to her body, to where I can smell the faint perfume of wildflowers emanate from her neck. I'm so close to her that I can feel her colder body against my own. I can see no sign of blood pumping through her neck. I listen in for a sound of breathing; she could just be in shock. But she is silent. Her stomach has even stopped its telltale breathing motions of expansions and contractions. What…is this…

"Snivy, no! You can't be! No! No!" I quickly roll her over to her back with a shoulder. She is still unresponsive, even after the move. Wh-what now?!

_I can't do CPR…I don't even know if it'll work with a Pokémon…but I must try!_ I think desperately. _She can't die like this! I won't be able to live with myself if it is so!_ Inexperienced, as with everything, I can only do as much as forcefully push her chest down. No response. I do it again: Nothing. Five times in quick succession: Not even a heartbeat. Ten times: Nothing! I can't do anything about this, can I? I-I've actually…_lost_ her…

"Is this…could this really be…the end?" I laboriously whisper, choking over the soon-to-be-present tears. "Why? Why would I…why would I disregard _her_?" I quietly ask the cave so as not to get taunted by the rocks' echoes. "What is…happening to me? I'm not a murderer, but…I am!"

I slump over Snivy's cold, upturned body in failure. I can't hold back now; there's no way I could be strong enough so as to resist mourning over a friend, whom was killed in action from such a stupid mistake of mine. _I should've attacked when I had the chance!_ I recall, noting that I had only used a Focus Energy instead of directly helping Snivy out. _I shouldn't assume! I shouldn't assume!_

"Snivy!" I cry over her body, "I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" I don't care if something notices my cries and comes to pick me off. That's fine by me; I don't deserve to live if I'm such an idiot to overkill an already dead Woobat instead of helping the only friend I've ever had. But nothing will ever dare approach me; that dead Pokémon in this room is a pretty good sign, saying, "Hey! I'm dangerous!" Well…that's pretty damn accurate. God…I'm so dangerous that I could pose as a threat to my own self! I still can't stop crying. I hope I'll just cry myself to sleep, to wake up back in my own world. To see it was all a dream, to know that there's still someone out there who cares for me, to know that someone is alive. Anything that can make _this_…untrue! Anything that can make depression untrue! I can't take…much more…

* * *

"…_sssss_Snivy! Just go! Run!"

…Hmm? What's going on here? _I…I thought that Woobat had just finished…melding my mind into one compressed state,_ I think, waking up on the spot. _Into…oblivion!_

"Snivy…please listen to me…"

I get up to assume a standing position. I'm in the forest again! The sun is so bright that…it almost burns white with excessive heat. How intriguing.

"Snivy! I'm right here!"

Who is that? He sounds so familiar, but so distressed as well. Wait…is that…could it be…?

"Behind you! Look here! There's not much time!"

No! It can't be! I quickly make the turn to check behind me.

"F-father!"

"Snivy, my dear! You need to run as far away as you can from this place! You can't be promised safety here!" It's him, no doubt. I'd never mistake another Serperior for him. It's just like a sixth sense, imprinted deep inside of my mind. It's weird…but feels so natural at the same time.

"I can't leave you, father!" I cry out. "Not after last time! I just can't!" _Wait…I didn't say—_

"Snivy, everything will be alright," he says, still flustered, "but I need to make sure you'll be fine." I try to move in to embrace him, but something disallows my body from moving; like I had been paralyzed. Instead, I try to run like he instructed, but I can't do that either! I'm glued in place! _Wait…no! No, no, no, no!_

"Snivy, you can't—" …a crash of glass shattering interrupts him; weird, considering we're standing in a forest. He is soon surrounded in an evil looking haze of yellow. His once animated self stops cold immediately following the entrance of the haze. He is now glued in place, as am I. I try to speak out of alarm, but nothing comes out of my blabbering mouth. And out of nowhere, a Pokémon, wearing a black band around its head and covering its midsection, emerges from the shadows of the trees. It drops the black cloth covering up its middle, revealing a set of long, red scythes, sharp as razors. It jumps up, assisted in part by its wings, and latches onto my dad. No, no…not again! It's that same Kricketune! I've seen this all before…no wonder why I can't speak; I never said anything those times! I thought I'd erased this from the darkest parts of my mind…but how is it possible that I'm recollecting it so vividly?

"Any last words, my friend?" it asks in the same scratchy, sinister voice. As soon as the Kricketune asks that, my dad's head re-animates from its frozen state. He looks down to see Kricketune's pair of long blades crossing over his throat in an "X."

"Snivy," he starts, not even breaking down from the dire situation, "hurry up and find your mother. Go…"

"I'm afraid your wife has fallen to the same fate," the Kricketune says solemnly, "but I can assure that your daughter will be spared." The bug looks up to me quickly before refocusing on my dad. He just exposes his neck further to the cross of blades, allowing Kricketune to, when the time came, end his life quickly.

"Promise me…" my dad says, closing his eyes.

"Assassins always hold to their word," the Kricketune maintains. "Be enlightened at that." And without further conversation, the Kricketune executes his killing move; a point-blank X-Scissor, to my dad's neck, with me in attendance. It jumps off, allowing my dad to drop to the floor. Blood rapidly spills out of him, but he's motionless; he had been killed by how powerful the super effective move was. But…Arceus, it's horrible! There's blood everywhere!

Suddenly, the surrounding forest starts imploding below me. My dad and Kricketune melt away into nothingness. I cringe as the forest floor appears to fall away from below me, but as it does, I stop; I'm not going with it. Only a moment after seeing my dad getting executed again, I'm left in a sea of black, alone.

…this is who I am, huh? …I'm only a Pokémon of the shadows; nothing more. I'm not a habitant of a forest that germinates life everywhere, but a lurker of the sorrows of night. I'm…not okay. I'm just a shell of glamour, and a muscle of what could've been. I'm…incomplete without him. Without him…I'm just the saddest Pokémon that has ever lived. Is it possible…that this is what Nate feels? What he lives in? …no, it can't be. He's a human; more complex than I'll ever dream to be. Maybe the world's better off…maybe he's better off…without a sad Pokémon as I am.

Arceus, how could I ever even think of forgetting such a thing as my father's death? Tch…maybe I should just let go and die. Nobody loves me, after my dad died. Nobody cares for me anymore. I'm just a child of the forest of darkness, where even then, everything wants to kill me.

"Snivy…I'm so…sorry,"

I hear another voice ring out softly, in a mournful tone. It's not my father, but…it's someone else. Someone…familiar.

"Oh God I…I don't know what to do anymore. I know suicide is wrong, but…"

No, that's not familiar at all. It's so…foreign sounding. Why would I think of it as familiar?

"I can't live like this. Not like this…"

Wait a minute…that's Nate! How could I forget about him? Why would he sound so foreign to me when I know him; is it his humanness showing? I try to find my eyelids in the real world, to escape this nightmare of darkness and despair. But I can't find myself in the mortal world again; I'm _here_, not there.

"You can't leave me! You can't—"

"Are you…serious? Do you…_want_ to die?"

Nate's voice has abruptly melded into something totally foreign. This is not Nate anymore, but someone else. Someone completely unfamiliar, with a tone of slight authority. Despite the new voice, I still can't see anything or move in the void.

"W-what?" I find myself able to ask, now enabled to speak.

"You _were_ assaulted pretty badly by that Woobat," it explains, "so you _could_ enter the afterlife from here."

"T-the afterlife?" As soon as I say that, I white light, the same light the sun burned with earlier, sears through the darkness, blinding me briefly in its luster.

"The place where all of your desires come true," it continues. "You can even see your father again." As the light grows in intensity, pushing back the once prevalent darkness, my dad appears as a shadow in the light, standing tall and still. That's him, alright…and he's waiting for me to join him, isn't he? I never knew such a place existed: A place where all of my dreams…can come true...

"What about Nate?" I ask impulsively, thinking of his voice. "When he dies…will he be able to come here?" Suddenly, an invisible force makes my legs move, sending me in the direction of my father's shadow.

"…no," it says, "he is no Pokémon, but a human. A creature whom will be forever inferior to our own kind."

"How can you say that?!" I demand, trying to stop whatever is making me move into the new realm. But the force is beyond my strength. "If anything…he's superior to you!"

"Humans are weak; didn't you see?! They will never, _never_ be purified from the flames of war that rage in their hearts!" it thunders out.

"I can't go! I made a promise to him!" I object desperately. But I get no further response. Whatever was talking to me…has deserted me to drift into the light of the presumed afterlife. My father's image melts away, leaving pure white light.

I've always thought that light was the sign of life. That everything would be ok when I encountered light. That was true…especially after Ragged Mountain…until this happened. Until this mess happened…until I _had_ to ask to die. Somehow…I envy the dark now. Light just seems…overrated in its glamour, when it is, in fact, your death…right? I never knew how true my thought of me being a lurker of the dark would be until now.

I'm nearly completely inundated by the light now. Just a few paces away…until what everyone presumes redemption to be…envelops me in its false glory. _Nate…forgive me…but I gave up. I…have failed…you…_

"…_I forgive you…"_

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**A/N: If anyone has any questions about this one chapter in particular…along with a like/hate for this chapter…leave a review.**

**But…we got some more of Nate's…different…attitude. That's all I can explain about his outburst without giving out too much.**

**Thanks again for the support of the story…and I hope you will all stick around for the next time I post. Until then, excuse me for the inconvenience. **


	12. Waking Up to Ash and Dust

**A/N: I am back from camp and am posting on a Tuesday? I **_**was**_** planning to do a double Wednesday…but for those of you who read this intently probably have had enough waiting. So I'll post part 1 of double Wednesday today…and the next one on Wednesday. Hope you're fine with that?**

**I'm going to give more thanks to those who fav/follow this. You guys are awesome; thanks for the support! Also, for anyone from GLADE who's gotten to this point…thank you for reading this far! Whoever you are…I hope I can deliver with this chapter! Sorry for the huge chapter in advance! 10k words, no matter what's in it, _is_ a bit daunting...**

**Yes...I DID change the title...but only because stating "A Pokemon Mystery Dungeon Tale" became a bit...uneventful for me. So, I spruced it up in that sense, with an updated summary. Anyways...here you go!**

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"—…_hhhhhhh_Hey! Can you hear me…_at all?_"

Ack! The sudden noise from the once deafening surroundings of the light awakens me in a jolting jump. And as my vision quickly un-tunnels…it's Nate! Wh…what has transpired here? I had not slipped into the afterlife after all…but it was all so…_real!_ I'm only given a few seconds purchase into his odd eyes…and he turns away from me, off to the left. He's doubled over, hands on knees, in apparent distress.

"Oh…thank God…" I can barely hear him whisper to himself.

"H…hmm?" I, however, am not coherent enough to make a legible piece of dialogue. I can only make…a sort of _humming_ noise. And why..._why_ are my vines all over the place? I thought I brought them back...might as well now...

"It's all my fault, isn't it?" Nate laments in a normal voice. "It's all _my_ fault, Snivy. It all…truly is; I had that Woobat's number…and I _hesitated_…"

"It's fine, Nate," I say softly but oddly as I draw back my vines completely, surprised at how quickly I regained my speaking ability. Yet I _had_ to speak then; Nate can't suffer _this_ much, from himself…it was necessary to cut off his pointless explanation. Finding myself on my back, feeling a slight twinge from slamming on it or something, I get myself to ascend to a stand. Surprisingly, no ill effects arise from…whatever the heck happened to me. Aww, how I wish I could've been in sync with the world to see what happened…but I can't remember anything after spending a few seconds trapped by that…attack…

Feeling normal, I decide to latch a flimsy, but stronger, left arm onto Nate's left shoulder. I turn him over, to face me; to see me up and okay. His whole expanse of skin is painted with the savage colors of red blood, foreign to his own, watery substance in comparison. His face appears to melt in the stuff…no; his face looks like that because…he's been tearing up a lot. The blood, on this part of his body, appears less than everywhere else. Still…he's obviously gone through a lot while I was…away.

"I…I thought I lost you. If I did…I wouldn't know what to do with myself," Nate says softly and dramatically, breathing somewhat tersely.

"Why so…dramatic about it?" I ask, worried for his mental health…again. "I was only unconscious, was—"

"You weren't breathing for a whole thirty minutes!" Nate says with great alarm. I can tell how alarmed he is by it; he just used another human word of his, I guess, but…what?! Nate wouldn't lie to me about that, and especially not with the kind of tone he used there! I…wasn't even alive?! Is that even possible?! _How…ominous. I guess everything I experienced there…was as real as I am._

"Regardless…words alone cannot even express how relieved I am not to have a late friend," Nate says, turning away from me to look in the same direction as before, facing his back towards me. I shift myself over to the right slowly to see what demands so much attention from him. It all looks like dark, shadowed rock, slightly blue from the dark, and…no! No, no, no! I shift back to behind Nate, to shield my eyes from what I think I saw: The fringes of a massive pool of blood. I prepare myself to hold myself back from retching…but I don't. _It's…too soon…_

"Wh-what happened there?" I ask, realizing I sounded a _lot_ more scared than I thought I would have. _It's okay, Snivy. Nate'll keep you safe—_

"I, uh…" he slowly starts off, sounding reluctant, "took matters into my own hands after seeing you getting pummeled by the thing." He turns to face an empty wall on his right; enough of one to be able to see me from the edges of his possible vision. "And I…didn't hold my emotion back. And…that's what happened," he says quietly with an audible, deep sigh. "And I…killed it…" he finally finishes, softer than before. _Why in Arceus' name would you do such a thing?!_ …is almost what I actually say to him in spite…before I narrowly catch myself from laying such a berating sentence on a spirit as broken as Nate's.

_"…he is no Pokémon, but a human…_ _They will never, _never_ be purified from the flames of war that rage in their hearts!"_

Hearing that reverberate around inside of me also stops me cold of trying to say something more sensible. _Is it possible that Nate is built to kill…?_

"I don't know what happened," Nate continues, shaking his head as if something has a hold on him, "but I came back to my _full_ senses when I found myself loosing…blue flames on the thing," he concludes. Is he possibly describing…Dragon Rage? Of course, I wasn't there, but…it sounds a _lot_ like it. _Yet I don't get how an individual like Nate could even pull off killing something…under _any_ circumstance…in the mental state he's in,_ I continue to mull.

"I guess I got…angry or something," he says, rotating his head more towards me a little. "Kind of like what happened at Ragged Mountain, except…_this_ happened." He's obviously very sorry for everything, being as sincere as he sounds. Well he's…a human! He's something else; I've gone over this before, but nothing could be truer with his amplified emotion…right?

"Shh…relax…" I whisper. "It happens; you had every right to do that—"

"Snivy, stuff like this doesn't just _happen_," Nate says, dropping his head slightly. "This isn't good at all…"

"You were defending me with equivalent force," I support, "so that's righteous."

"…I guess you're right…" he says, raising his head back, but still sounding perturbed.

"We can't think about the past like this, not after going as far as we have gone," I tell him, reminding him of what I said in the day previous. "We've got a house to build!"

"Yeah," he agrees quietly. I simply nod.

"I say we press on. We can't be that far from the goal from here," I engage, taking steps to lead him into the tunnel where the floor appears to slant down into another steep shaft.

"Wait," Nate calls to me, going from a sad to a regulatory voice, "are you…healthy enough to do this?"

"I'm fine," I reassure. Tch…what a big lie. There is no way I could be okay, not after what I had experienced. I tell Nate not to think of the past, yet I think about the past all the time now; I can't help to go a moment without thinking my dad was slain because of me. But Nate doesn't need to know that right now. He needs my support, not my depressing story. It's not…relevant, like he said about his identity.

I never take the liberty to look back at what even remained of the Woobat. One part because of how much I crave to escape the cave as quickly as possible, another part because I don't want to see the Woobat…dismembered. Ugh; for all I know, that Woobat may have been reduced to a pile of ash and dust after Nate's heated Dragon Rage. Still, I don't want to know! I _do_ want to know how Nate could possibly get _that_ angry; he's not that kind of Axew. But that isn't the right thing to ask of him at the moment, either: It's awfully fresh in his mind. The only thing I know how to do is to follow the motivation of getting the crystals and leaving this forsaken place…hopefully once and for all. At least the leaving part will be easier; the orb I had picked up before getting zapped by that Confusion attack is an Escape Orb. My lucky day.

This tunnel is, indeed, a shaft to a lower level of the cave. Much like the last one, another sudden and sharp incline leads down into an even darker room. This time, not even a trace of moss lines the nearly freezing cave floor. The room is huge, but only one exit lies in wait for us to take, carved in the wall directly in front of me. I slowly walk up to make progress without interference from anything else…but…wow; this cave sure is _quiet_. Since caves have such great abilities to reverberate sound, you can only slightly hear something; a soft, quiet buzz, made from various entities and actions, through the normal silence of a cave. Many say that this is just one's self trying to find a source of sound because of the lack of one, but that's a lie. It's the sound of death: The sound of movement to a shady corner in a corridor, where a Pokémon could just hide until you walk by and then…_ugh_. Makes me shiver thinking about it, but…it would just hide until you put yourself in the right spot to get slain, may it be from a slash to the throat, a psychic attack to cleft a brain…but I can't hear _anything_ at all. Nothing but the sound of Nate's tough feet hitting the stone floor behind me, and even that sound is almost negligible. I've never been to a cave that's been this peaceful…ever…

Ever since I took that attack…it feels like the once-sinister charisma of the cave has died itself, leaving only the stark shadows to remain. I'm not too sure about this at all…so I decide to continue quickly to the exit, in hope that the peace is a blessing, not a deadly phenomenon that no one has survived to tell the tale. Or…I could be hearing things…which is odd to think, because I don't hear anything at all. _But_, that psychic attack I took earlier could be causing my brain to receive the sound _of_ nothing. And knowing how disorienting those kinds of attacks can be…it's certainly a possibility. No…that _has_ to be it.

This throughway winds about like nothing I've ever seen before in a cave! With all of these turns, it's almost exhausting just to continue changing direction! Worse still, the turns create corners, where wild Pokémon could hide "behind," and out of view until I stumble upon a set of their murderous eyes! This is exactly what I thought about earlier! Argh…so scary, but I must press on for the sake of that house! I promised Nate that I…I wouldn't run away. He's not running away from all of this; I looked over my shoulder earlier to see him close behind me, eagerly following me in his inexperience. I just hope I can get out of this mess sooner rather than—"_hurk!_"

"Ooh!" Nate says in response of my blunder, "You okay there?" Something stopped my stride, ramming into my protruding head. I re-open my eyes to see that the corridor has narrowed down to a very narrow expanse, far too small for me or Nate to go through normally. I ran into a wall of rock! I shake my head to dismiss the embarrassment.

"This looks tight," I state out loud, disenchanted.

"Sidle through it," Nate immediately says from behind. "It doesn't look too narrow…and it's our only way out now." Sidling? Ah, sidling, yes! That might work here! I rotate my body so I'm leading out with my slimmer left side, instead of my wider front. I point my head up high so my bulbous skull wouldn't get knocked again. And slowly…I move sideways…and into the space successfully! Albeit slower, we're still making progress! As I shimmy on through, I can hear Nate grunting, trying to get his stockier body through the slim opening. I halt my progress.

"Can you make it?" I call out to the ceiling, unable to move my head too far laterally.

"Urgh…yeah, it's just…I've got a lot more body to deal with as an Axew than as a human," Nate replies. Mmm…he's still getting used to all of this, eh? I sigh as I feel my neck ache a little from having to hold my head up at such a severe angle, in wait for him to squeeze through.

"It's not comfortable, but this'll do," Nate confirms to me. I can also confirm from hearing his rough skin rubbing loudly against the close cave walls.

"I'm moving again," I alert him, and follow my words. I continue moving down, so slowly, so…vulnerable! I rub past what feels to be a huge crack gashing in the stone wall behind me; that's not good! If that crack is as big as I felt it to be…Joltiks could just be lying in wait for me! If there are…the possibility that _both_ of us get zapped by one is excruciatingly high! Their continuous Thunder Wave attacks would render us useless to defend ourselves against their hungry sets of fangs from delving into our bodies. If one latched on both me and Nate…we would be stuck here for hours, waiting for the Joltik to get its fill of our life liquid. And that's not even saying that more could latch on! We might not even make it out of this dreadful place alive! But…standing still in fright wouldn't do anything. I must keep going, no matter the consequences, and hope that Arceus is keeping both me and Nate safe from such a calamity.

_"He is no Pokémon…but a human…"_

It's there again! Piercing through my mind, trying to derail my newly fostered resolve to continue on! Telling me that I cannot do this…even though that's not what it said at all! It's so painful for being just a dreadful voice; my head reverberates in its pestilence, hearing the voice's awful tone again and again. …What is doing this to me? Because I sure wouldn't remember such an awful thing…but I've been proven wrong before.

My muscles, they…desire to tense up and cease to function; to stop my forward progress in respect, in obedience, of the authoritative tone of that voice. _…No! You won't…stop me! I must continue…Nate needs the support!_ I scold the being that has penetrated my weakening spirit. And in reflection of Nate, of his hardship and necessity of me as a result, does the trick, freeing me of strain. I'm moving _freely_ again, so to say.

I promised Nate…I promised him I wouldn't run away…but whatever that thing was, in the vision I had when I was "dead," didn't care for that. Heck, it didn't even care about Nate at all! It's almost like Nate didn't even exist to it, with how much hatred the thing had for him. What did Nate ever do to garner such rancor? Just being a human shouldn't be enough justification for it! Mulling over the things I heard makes me grind on my teeth as I continue to slide by rock, almost forgetting about the threat of Joltiks.

But wait! That's it, isn't it? Nate's a _human_, not a Pokémon! And if he's not allowed in the afterlife after all…could it be? I lay my faith in Arceus; it is the one being that can save us all in a time of absolute hopelessness. It is the one that will grant us entry to the…afterlife, I guess…when this world cannot support anything anymore. I respect that legend with my heart, and pray that Arceus will keep the Pokémon of this world from suffering everlasting…if _that_ were to ever happen. But…Nate is a human. Does he respect Arceus, too? Surely he does; Arceus is the only supreme being in the universe that can actually grant him solace through the dark, from what I've read. But…which would be in play here; Arceus's hate towards humans, or Nate's negligence of Arceus? Is this possibly the reason why Nate gets it so rough these days, now that he's an Axew?

The tight squeeze of the seemingly crushing walls suddenly widen out as I stumble upon my thoughts, bringing me back from the secluded medium of subconscious action. I drop my head immediately, feeling a bone or two "snap back" into place from the length of time they had to be moved abnormally. My neck doesn't hurt anymore, so that must have been a good thing. I turn from my sideways position to a normal stance. Upon making the turn, my vision allows me to see that the corridor quickly augments from normal width into another room.

We've done it; the crevice is no more, and no Joltiks came to object our advance. I sigh heavily in relief of so many things at once, walking forward to the space separating the short corridor from the small room. I turn around to face the dark crevice, hoping that Nate is faring the obstacle well. It doesn't take long before Nate breaks through the darkness down the straightaway of the tight passage. Like I was, he's also gritting his teeth, but probably in his struggle to get through the thing instead of a mental deal. And, as he referenced earlier, he's having a _much_ harder time getting through; Nate's breathing quickly in outbursts of strength, seemingly trying his hardest to pass the challenge. His head is held at an awkward angle; that horn on top sure does make his big head a difficulty.

"You've got this!" I encourage him. "Only a few lengths away until you're out! Just imagine the relief you'll feel!" He grunts in response, and quickens his movement ever so slightly. He's getting closer…closer…closer! Nate's up at the mouth of the crevice, right in front of me. He opens a green eye on me from his head, scrunched up against his chest to keep the oblong horn from stopping his progress against rock. He growls lightly, trying to shove himself out of the crevice. And finally, he pops out, nearly crashing into me if it hadn't been for a deft side step I managed to make. At last…we're out of trouble…for now.

Nate, much like I had, sighs out loud having regained his balance. I can see him in front and to the right of me…and still, most of his pale green skin is marred with the widespread splashes of red blood. It _still_ glistens, even when in near-complete darkness, from how fresh it is. But most of the ghastly discolorations had survived his complicated trek through the enclosing walls of slightly wet rock, meaning that some of the patches of red had caked on him completely. This still gives Nate an extremely sinister look; fitting, given his unbelievable undoing…which I _won't_ ask about…not yet.

"You okay?" he asks in his foreign voice, seeing me gazing at him for, maybe, one moment too long. I shake my head quickly after.

"Yeah," I reply, still lying about my true condition. I pass him in the corridor to regain the lead, heading straight for the room not too far from my original spot. I walk in carefully and quietly, swishing my head around the entire expanse of the smaller, circular-sized room. No items, no enemies…no sign of anything here. Nothing comes out from the enswathing shadows covering the edges of the circle. And it's still too quiet to even be real life. _What could be happening here? We shouldn't have made it past that crevice so easily…and we should be being attacked left and right, right now!_ I complain to myself. _Well…I guess this is a blessing, then._

"Shaft here," Nate alerts. I hear him throw his voice off to the left, despite the walls reflecting his voice. I stop my slow walk and look over to the left from near the center of the circle. The ground there slopes down towards the left-most part of the circle from my last perspective, so he's spot on with the observation. I turn to see his once-pointing arm drop down. He's just looking at me for praise. I just give him a curt nod and adjust my heading towards the sinking ground.

_"Humans are weak…a creature whom will be forever inferior to our own kind…didn't you see?!"_

I _have_ to stop this time! It's there again…taking its stake in my mind! It's sabotaging everything I once held dear to me; knowledge, love, cunning, gone! In the painstaking process, I can't bear but to poorly endure the convulsions coming from my head. I must keep going…I _must_ keep going…but why am I losing my footing, my clear vision…myself? Urgh…mmm… "ahh!"

"Snivy!" Nate calls in alarm from my cry. "What's wrong?"

"It hurts, Nate! It hurts!" I complain loudly. I want to think more…but this invasion from this invisible entity keeps me from thinking in a more in-depth manner.

"What hurts?!" Nate asks, searching the solution to aid me.

"Everything!" I hyperbolize. "Whatever that Woobat did to me…is doing something…_amazi_—ahh!"

My teeth quickly grit together again, and my feet fall under my massive weight, leaving only my knees for support. This invisible worm…what is it doing to me?! It feels like something is wringing and twisting my head into knots from all of these amazing headaches, forcing every unpleasant thought out of it in the process. It's so unreal! "Argh! …unh…"

_"Do you…_want_ to die?"_

Why? Why is this happening to me? _How_ is this happening to me? A Confusion attack shouldn't be able to cause such aversion as this! Am I the outlier; the exception?! "…rrr…"

"You can't do this to me again!" Nate begs desperately behind me as I fall forward, losing perception fast. I can only let myself light on the ground, dropping the bag that was once secure on my shoulder fall away…but I'm not allowed to exit consciousness into the now seemingly desirable grasp of…ah! I _can't_ say that! _No, Snivy, no! You can't give in to such a thing as this! No!_

"You're shaking terribly!" Nate says behind me, rubbing his open hand on my sweaty back. "We need to get you back up!" I could say the exact same thing, but I can't even—

Nate swoops an arm under me, wrapping me in a comforting grip. Slowly, he turns me around to my back by sliding his arm under me away. I'm on my back now…still in a universe of pain. Nate quickly continues his work, sending another arm under my back, and slowly…lifts me up to sit up. I try and shift my weight to comply…but even this doesn't work for me! Nate probably feels my "reluctance" to sit up, and just holds me in the position.

"Grr…_ahh…_"

"Shhh…shh…shh…" Nate whispers lightly, placing an open hand on my chest, just about the same spot as where my overworked heart beats vigorously under.

"Quiet now; you'll pull through this. You're stronger than you think," Nate says in a surprisingly soothing voice. And I didn't dream it that time…he _meant_ to use that voice…_mmm_. No, I didn't dream that one at all; it's so vivid in its reverb around my skull's walls, it had to be real. So real, so pure, so…amazing in its wonderful tenderness. _Oh Nate…do that…again…_

"I can give you another promise, right here," Nate continues, "you're going to get through this. In fact, I _know_ you're going to," he adds in his serene whisper. His continuing work with that voice…breaks up the other million tormenting my mind…and ceases them. And a sense of having a mind…slowly comes back to me…

"You're heart's slowing," Nate says calmly, rubbing my chest. "You're doing well." His touch…oh, that wonderful feeling…revives me from the other half of my delirious mind. He rids it of the un-material visions seamlessly, and I'm left seeing him looking right back at me. And those eyes…those amazing, green eyes, laced with the night's overreaching darkness…just completes him…is this real? Is he actually doing this…or is this just my mind going crazy over him in this state I'm in? It _must_ be real; there's no mistaking the pressure on my chest is from his palm.

I'm only left with a hazy grog from my tunnel vision of Nate…and a warm feeling from what were my bloodstreams rushing in a torrent.

"Urk…I'm…rattled, Nate," I sadly say to him, entrusting his care and strength. I sigh deeply, realizing some things. "I don't think I…can lead properly from here. I've just…I don't know…"

"I'll take the lead here, don't worry about that," Nate answers, back to a normally light, yet sympathetic, tone. "You just focus on getting better, okay? Focus on _you_." Heh…how funny…because I definitely didn't want to…wait, where am I going with this? That's a _human,_ for Arceus's sake! But he…certainly doesn't look like one…but he is!

"Y-yeah," I drawl in thought, slowly rising to a stand. Nate releases me, to allow me up. "Sure," I add, disenchanted, looking away from him. _Wow…what is happening to me?_

"Listen to me well, Snivy," Nate says urgently, but lightly. "You can't, and won't, act properly without a healthy mind," he starts. I turn my look back to him, laying just one eye on his insightful figure in attention. "You're body dictates your strength…but your mind controls your body, and thus, your strength. But whatever you do in life…_don't_ lose sight and control of your mind, not even for a second. Strange things…seem to happen when you lose that," he draws out, starting, now in the lead, to the shaft. I slowly fall in behind him, only to hear him sigh as he walks on: "Like turning into this lumbering Axew…"

"Don't worry about me," I quickly say to discourage him from dropping his mood into the muck again. "I'm working on it. And, if anything, me letting you take the lead is one big step in doing so."

"If that's what it takes," he says normally, "but take it easy; seriously. You've been through enough, with whatever happened to you there added to that attack." I really wish I could explain to him why I'm so weak…why all of these awful things pop into my mind so often…but I'm not sure if he'd understand. Then again, I'm not too sure about it myself, either. But…I've got to get my mind straight first, just as he said. I kneel over to pick up my bag, in preparedness to move under the leadership of the human, Nate.

* * *

With Nate now leading me down the slope, I'm given that wonderful opportunity to focus solely on recovering, just like I told him. Leading takes an always vigilant mind in order to assess threats, make decisions, and ultimately, to keep everyone alive. Following, though, takes nearly no effort: Just trust the one in charge, and follow their movement. It's easy enough for me to trust someone with Nate's personality, so I can take the following role easily. I let sub-consciousness engulf my body quickly after knowing Nate will be okay at this, and I slip into a wonderful state of deep thought. I'm trusting Nate's actions so much at this point, that I'm not even caring where he's leading me anymore; only I matter now.

Why is it that, when I'm not even close to reminiscing it, that authoritative voice can just invade my mind like that so quickly from total nothingness? Again…that leads me to this predominant question: How is it that I can remember something so awful when I'm not even close to recalling such a thing? Does it…does it possibly have something to do with that vision of seeing my father getting assassinated again? I mean, that's something that I would never, _ever_, materially think about anymore, to prevent all of the raw emotion from the experience from gushing out of me. But something happened…something ticked in my mind that made me recollect the event in such a dramatic, yet completely unreal, manner. I can remember myself screaming in unending agony after taking that Woobat's super-charged attack…but soon after I was in its grasp, the visions I saw ensued after darkness…and I suppose, death…took hold of me. Is it possible that I _was_ dead, like Nate said, or was it just his over-caring reaction to seeing me in a bedraggled form? I mean…it could've been unconsciousness all along…but I'll never know that. Only Nate saw what happened to me…only Nate! Why did _he_ not experience the same thing I did back there? Sure I might be the outlier, but there has to be some common things we experience from it, right? Let's see, then.

"Nate?" I ask as he leads me into a flatter hallway from the shaft, away from sub-consciousness.

"What's that?" he hails in stride. Shortly after we dropped into the corridor, he leads me into a small room.

"How did it feel? To get attacked with a Confusion attack?"

"So is _that_ what it's called?" he observes out loud. "Aside from getting a hellish headache…the attack immediately forced thoughts upon me that I would normally never think about."

"Like what?" I press.

"Well…it "reminded" me of my parents, and renewed my absolute hatred towards them" Nate says, with anguish dominating his voice. From the sound of that, he probably didn't like the happening any more than I did. But…how can one even think to hate one's parents…one's family? He doesn't seem like the one to hate anything too extensively, much less something as sacred as the concept of family…but he _did_ murder…ah! I shouldn't risk thinking about _that!_ That overpowering voice could make a comeback; and maybe in a fashion where Nate won't even be able to revive me again! But…how _did_ he do that earlier, anyways? No, that's beside the point; I matter now.

"Do you…think about your parents much?" I ask, renewing my resolve in finding if my recollection of a seemingly unknown event from that attack is an anomaly or not. He sighs, leading me into another corridor from the small room.

"No. When I do, I just wonder about what I did to cause them to do what they did to me," Nate answers slowly. But…he's hiding something from me, in how vague that answer was. I'm almost certain of it. But I'm not exactly at liberty to ask him such a piercingly personal question. One broken mind is enough; two would be disastrous. Nate did, however, see the same-natured things as I did throughout receiving Confusion. Surely, I would've been able to endure my own attack; a charged attack should do more damage, not more ailments. Is Nate's mind just…tougher than my own, or am I just flat-out weak?

"_Humans are weak!"_

"H-how do you feel now?" I struggle to ask, just barely deflecting away the impulse to lock up from that voice. It's still there!

"Oh, I'm totally fine now," he confirms, still walking down the tunnel, navigating through it. "If it's any consolation to you, I don't feel any…after-effects as you do," he says with a tone, heavy from concern. He takes a tunnel that branches off to the right, and I have no problem following him down.

"It's so…_strange,_" I say to myself, but also in part, to Nate. "Why do I feel so—"

"Drilbur! One o'clock!" Nate quickly files into the opening of a room, which lies so close to where he took the turn into the tunnel beforehand. He allows me the privilege into the vast-looking room he stumbled upon. I have absolutely _no_ idea as to what Nate even means by "one o'clock," but there is a Drilbur in this room, glaring at us well ahead and off to the right a little ways. I instinctively ready my whips and put on my battle face of gritted teeth, returning the glare in as menacing of a manner as I can. The Drilbur takes a quick drop into an energetic pose, appearing as if it was preparing to crash in and strike at any moment. But as the moment drags on, the Drilbur suddenly squeals and reels…in fear? The Drilbur takes no time in clawing through the stone floor of the cave with his steel-tempered claws from where it stands…in apparent desperation. It's…escaping? A wild Pokémon…fleeing from the chance of making a kill? Impossible! The brown creature, which would normally be hostile to us, buries itself out of sight, and likely continues to dig in a hasty retreat. It doesn't even create an aggressive tremor as it leaves; it's leaving like it doesn't want to be followed. This is something I've never seen before; I've never encountered a wild Pokémon that happened to be a pacifist. I'm not sure what to think of it…but I'll take no fighting over having to fight any day, especially now. The digging sound coming from the Drilbur fades away and out of earshot, and the cave returns to its state of peculiar silence.

"Well, I guess it had second thoughts after seeing me!" I say boldly, retracting my vines as I cast a sideways glance to Nate, who sided me on the left during the ordeal. He un-bends his knees from an anticipatory pose, seeing the threat gone, laughing from my remark.

"As much as I like you, Snivy…I think it was scared of me," Nate says, first lightly, then seriously. _Funny how you should say that you like me…I was thinking the exact same earlier when…wait, where am I going with this?_

"Why's that?" I ask. Nate simply points to his whole figure. The one that is muddled by splashes of blood, dry from the effects of time.

"They can smell it on me," he says flatly, "they know that I'm…a killer. Would you attack me, knowing what I just did to that Woobat?"

"Is that why this place is so…deathly quiet all of the sudden?"

"That might be why. The Woobat did screech pretty loudly as I burned it up with…whatever _that_ attack was," he says with a sigh, mentioning the Dragon Rage-esque move that he reports to have pulled off. "It just reminds me even more…of the atrocity that I managed to do…"

"You saved my life _again,_" I remind him, trying to tell him off of the past. "It's not all that bad when you've got that aspect of self-defense." It's always bad to kill something, but he did have _some_ reason to do it. He didn't do it in cold blood…but overkilling the Woobat with that Dragon Rage was a bit too far…

"Self-defense or not, you can't just forget these things!" Nate says, shaking his head. "I _didn't_ save your life; if anything, I sacrificed it—"

"You _did_ stop it from _actually_ killing me, didn't you?" I point out. At least…the Woobat was the reason why I almost died back there…right?

"Well…I guess so…"

"I _know_ so, Nate," I continue, "and I know you didn't mean to do what you did. It's okay."

"It's _not_ okay, Snivy. I'm not myself anymore."

"No, you're not," I agree, "but you can't let this bog you down. You're going to kill something accidentally in this world, no matter what. It was inevitable." I've always been told that, as much as I try, I will, at least once in my life, misjudge an enemy's strength and accidentally deliver a death blow. But, that hasn't happened to me and my timid self…yet. And, although slaying a wild Pokémon with deadly intent isn't looked down upon throughout a community…the aspect of ending a life must be…unbearable.

Nate just sighs again, and casts a forlorn look at me by only swishing his head to where I can only see one half of it through the shadows. He holds the head down a little, looking as lost as ever. "I don't like that," he says sadly. "I don't…I just don't want to kill through necessity…or at all, for that manner. I was never one of those ROTC guys…but this _is_…a new world." …ROTC? Should I…ask? Nah…I don't need to tell him more that he's not at home.

"You're right, I guess," Nate says, giving me a straight look. "And…as terrible as it sounds…this could be a blessing to us, without needing to take out hostiles. May as well…take it for what it's worth." He's right; that is terrible to think of how killing could be a blessing, but nothing dares to strike us anymore. Ironically…a poor action by Nate grants us this span of good luck. I'm not _too_ sure if I'm completely fine with it…but we need to get out of this cave as quickly as possible. And _that_…is as good of a chance we're going to get.

"You good?" I ask him, slanting my head in concern.

"Snivy, you know I'll never be—"

"You _will_ be better," I tell him. "Don't do this to me again; we talked about it already."

"Right. What's past is just that…" Nate tapers off, looking back to the floor.

"Mhm. You're doing fine," I continue to sympathize. "Keep leading me on. You can do this."

"I _can_ do this," Nate says, looking back to me. He nods. "Alright…we're going to get through this…"

* * *

Nate slowly regains his composure and starts again, heading straightaway from the last passageway to the only other one in this room. I take no time in following him, wondering when I can slip back into the comforts of my thoughts. The corridor, however, is only a short right turn into another room, which demands me to maintain a vigilant mindset in case a stray Pokémon gets the wonderful idea of attacking bloody Nate. Nate has his attention only on the far left corner of the decently-sized room, and I follow his head turn. There's a Violent Seed in the dark corner, and Nate changes course quickly to the seed, fearless of being attacked. But…ever since how badly the last altercation went…I'm staying close to Nate this time, instead of splitting off.

I'm surprised Nate isn't angry at me for that maneuver I had us do that time to just get items. If anything, I'm the one who should get the blame for my own "death." Does this mean…I'm at fault for making Nate feel this way? He's never going to be the same after this because of me. His nice attitude, doubled with how social he is to anyone who's willing to converse with him, might be compromised because of me. Am I why he's so down? He _does_ have to take care of me more than ever, but one can only know what kind of doubt swirls in that mind as he struggles to keep me well. Maybe I am just a terrible friend.

Nate routinely bends over to pick up the seed, likely unknown to him. Without another word, he offers it to me for storage in my bag on my shoulder. I grip the seed with a hand, commanding him to release the seed. I quickly store the seed as I notice Nate beginning to double back in the direction of his original position. I fall in line with him promptly.

"Tunnel there!" I call out, pointing to the same wall that has the entryway that we last emerged from. He stops and looks at my pointing head, and quickly searches the wall.

"Great call," Nate compliments me, changing course, again, towards the new entryway. On his way to pass me over, I catch his otherworldly eye gleaming with the shiny glaze of resolve and hope. _He's actually…pretty good at this leading thing, with that solid attitude and willingness to listen to my insight…despite being an unknowing human…_

I have to quickly start my movement toward the opening myself, in friendly pursuit of Nate's stubby dragon-tail. Not wasting another moment in the now-barren room, I'm led to delve into the darkness of the tunnel. This one seems to bend off to the left a ways down, prompting Nate to assume an even quicker pace to reach the only off shooting corridor. I'm about to ask for a slower pace for my shattered mind and body…and then he stops, looking down that leftward corridor. I stop a ways out to rest quickly. The entry to that particular corridor is only about as wide as a large Axew, so he _should_ be able to fit through it…or can he?

"Hey!" he suddenly calls out, turning over to my doubled over figure. I'm panting in fatigue; I've no idea where my once-stellar endurance has gone. I look up just barely, but keep my hands on my knees.

"I'd say that…this is it!" Nate almost exclaims, looking back down that hallway. Sighing in tiredness, I slowly walk over to the point of interest. Nate turns his head over to me slightly and sees miserable me, trudging over to him. He puts on a light, yet painstaking, look of concern before backing away to allow me a view of the corridor. When I get close enough as to see a wall in the new corridor, a dim blue hue glows off of it. That's _not_ a trick of the shadows, but a trick of the light…Nate found something!

"C'mon, Snivy. Just a few more paces until we can leave," Nate encourages my drooping posture. I finally get my whole self to front the entry…and my my…that's gotta be it! Shimmering blue crystals are only a few lengths away from where I stand, some jutting out of walls and some waiting on the cave floor for a lucky explorer. They come in several sizes, but none seem to get any bigger than the size of a half-length of my own height. The outcrops of the stones seem infinite; they're all over the chamber's walls, and even some small ones are poking out of the high ceiling! And…wow, the light in there is absolutely amazing! The gems are so lustrous that they all catch what remaining light filters down into the cave this deep down from the top level. The room there is completely bathed in a sharp blue color; even the cave walls there seem not stone gray, but burn cobalt blue from the intense refractions of the crystals!

"That's _gotta _be it!" I repeat from my thinking, only out loud and in an extremely excited manner. With my slim form, I quickly rush into the room, bag still over my right shoulder, in ignorance of what was my fatigue. "Wow, Nate!" I call to him in awe, turning around in a circle to take in the gleaming panorama of the wonderful room. I look down at my own hands for a second…and my whole body seems to shine in a cloak of cobalt blue. _This is…awesome…_

"We're going to get a house! We're _actually_ going to get a house!" I say excitedly, looking at a straight-faced Nate on the other side of the entrance. I let the leaven bag slip off of my shoulder, still looking at Nate's straight face. The room is big enough to hold maybe two Axews with a Snivy…but he's not even making a move inward through the entrance, which is big enough for his wide stature. _Isn't he excited by all of this, or…is that the look of…reflection?_ I can't imagine why Nate would be thinking of the past in front of such a phenomenon as this..

I look down to my bag, having seen enough of Nate's unfitting expression. I unwrap the leaves concealing what little goods are in it. There are only maybe a few berries and that seed and Escape Orb we'll burn off later…the bag is not even half full!

"Do we _have_ to just take five?" Nate asks in a bubbly tone from outside, misrepresenting the flighty look on his tusked face from before. "These could be _really_ good trading pieces, you know." …and somehow…I've been secretly thinking the exact same thing. Why _should_ we only take five? That's not taking advantage of the situation; there are tons of the crystals here!

"Let's see how many we _can_ get," I respond sensibly, in the light of my bag's fairly low-capacity capability. I look up from examining the bag to the walls of bright crystal in front of me. These crystals look like they're pretty well sunk in into the wall. We probably can't get every single one of them from that and my smallish bag…but these gems seem to just litter the floors close to the walls in large quantities. There seems to be piles of the rocks, just _begging_ to be picked up!

"Can you muster…oh, I don't know…thirty?" Nate asks. Oh, right; I'm a factor too. Too much would disable me from moving with the bag, which would be troublesome for the much stronger Axew in Nate. Although I'm sure his physique is better in terms of heavy-lifting…no one likes to do it for too long.

"Probably," I end up saying, unable to make a proper estimate of my own. I slide the ground-bound bag over towards the grand wall in front of me, and I take the step forward to directly front the wall. I bend over…and start tossing crystals into my bag.

* * *

…_twenty-six…twenty-seven…twenty-eight…twenty-nine…_"Thirty!"

The bag could probably hold twenty more…but as expanded as it has gotten from holding the weight of the numerous amount of crystal, thirty might be a good number to stop on. This is good; I don't want to carry a much bigger weight than I have to. At least the bag will be lighter than a falling Nate!

"Awesome," Nate says from outside of the shining chamber flatly. He never even made a move into the room; he's just been over-watching me and the corridor leading to this chamber, in watch for enemies, I suppose. "Should we, uh, get going?"

"Yeah, hold on," I reply, bending over to re-wrap my leaf bag up. With the bag wrapped, I sling over the rope back to my stronger right shoulder. As I'm down, I get the good sense to grasp the Escape Orb I had set aside from the bag before adding crystals to it. With everything accounted for, I slowly rise to a stand. Once the slack of the rope on the bag becomes no more, the great weight meets my shoulder like the deadweight it has become. I try to get it up…_grr_…but it'll only go just above the ground with me carrying it. I drop it quickly back onto the ground, in fear of hurting myself. Instead of carrying it…I can drag it through the tunnel to Nate, who _will_ be able to carry this! Redistributing my strength to my lame arms, I tug on the rope…and it moves a much greater distance than it would have, had I carried it! I end up facing my back to the target tunnel to get more power, and pull it, still holding the small-sized orb in a hand. That's a risk: If I drop the orb accidentally, I won't take Nate with me. That…would be nothing short of disastrous! Knowing this, I grip the orb tightly against the grassy rope of the bag as I continue to laboriously make progress. I don't have the strength to pull it in one smooth motion, so I have to pull the thing in bursts, moving it only so far each time. It's going to be a painstakingly long process, with the distance I make each time…but it has to be done. I'm already in the middle of the short tunnel running to Nate; no going back now!

I can only get the hefty bag to the mouth of the tunnel before I absolutely have to stop from exhaustion. _Well, Nate; if you're not going to help me here, I'll make _you_ carry it all the way back to camp!_ I think irritably at him as I step over the bag to reach the main corridor where he stands. I exaggerate my panting, hopefully sending the message that I actually need some help. Luckily…I never dropped the orb; it's still bound tightly by my left hand.

"Do you think you can hoist that?" I ask Nate, hiding my minor irritancy in a false voice of pleading. He breaks out of his annoying, reclining stance against the rocky wall next to the entrance to the blue chamber, and approaches the bag where I left it silently. He picks up the rope, standing right over it.

"We'll see." And with a grunt, he lifts the bag up, and gets the rope over his right shoulder, letting it rest there. The weight of the whole thing lurching downward causes him to stumble sideways to the right in the direction of the weight concentration. He has to use a nearby wall to crash in to; to provide balance. _If he can't do it, who—_ …he cuts off my thinking as he slowly rights himself, properly distributing most of his weight to his left side. Nate now stands properly, carrying the massive weight of the crystals.

"Yeah, I've got it," he breathes out, "but it's a little heavier than I thought."

"I'm glad I've got you for this," I say sincerely, switching the tight grip of the orb to a two-handed grip in front of me. As irritated as I _can_ get at him…Nate still can do enough work to keep me sane. Again…it's hard to get angry at someone with his attitude and history…and maybe a little from his eternal melancholy, too.

"Alright; what's next?" Nate asks, not realizing that I had said we would leave using an Escape Orb earlier. Ahh…he's a first-timer! This will be so much _fun_!

"Watch," I say quickly, stepping up close to Nate's un-occupied left side. I switch my grip of the orb back to the tight grip of my left hand. With a right arm, I send it behind Nate's neck, letting my right hand rest on his abrasive-skinned right shoulder, short of touching the bag's rope that's there as well. I secure the hold I have of him. "Keep carrying that bag, okay?" I confidently ask of him. I raise my left arm with the orb in hand, up high. And with a quick motion, I toss the orb as hard as I can in the direction of the ground, aiming for the space just ahead of the spot where Nate and I are connected.

"Well _yeah,_ but…hey! What are you—"

* * *

As the stunning white light from travel fades, the barren, red dirt surroundings of my land replaces it, marking that the orb has done its job perfectly. I look to my right, and my right arm falls back to its side: Nate isn't there anymore. I just smirk and look down; Nate has collapsed from the ordeal. Just about as soon as my land came into view, I believe he buckled and fell flat from being inexperienced in orb travel. Not surprisingly, he did the exact same thing when I first did it: Nate forgot to bend his knees, so the new terrain upset his lowered balance, causing him to fall over. He'll get it eventually, once he realizes that one's orientation is zero when doing these things, which causes collapses and other physical effects. But, my, is it hilarious!

"You okay?" I ask his grounded, upturned figure as the white light in my vision fades completely. I can't help but giggle a little bit, knowing that he's completely fine in the situation. His eyes seem wide open; the beautiful green eyes that centerpiece them are swimming around in confusion.

"…rgh…damn…" he manages to drawl in a stunned-sounding voice. He slowly rolls over to his all-fours. He accidentally stops himself with a tusk coming from an edge of his mouth, but ducks his head, completing his roll in a rough-looking way. His momentum from the roll, doubled with no orientation, floors him again. Nate doesn't make a quick move to stand up after that. I look over to the right on the ground: My bag that I had him hold for the travel lies a little bit away from him. A blue gem has slipped through an imperfection in the bag and is lying aside of it, reflecting its magnificent blue light from the now-strong sun onto the red ground, giving the ground a strange color of purple.

"My God…I _hate_ you, Snivy," Nate says sarcastically, getting on his knees and elbows, head down, yet closest to me.

"I _know_ you do," I reply in the same sarcastic manner. I giggle even more from how he treated the situation, and what he said to me there. So funny! "But you won't hate me for long when you finally realize where you are!" I continue, trying my best to stifle some more laughter.

"Wait, wha—oh…wow…" Nate breathes out, seeing that his once-blinded vision was not deceiving him. He looks up to me, still on all fours, but is seemingly looking more intently at the backdrop behind me. "How is this…even possible…?" he asks, dropping his head again to focus on getting himself up.

"Honestly," I start, looking up a little to remember what I've read in tomes, "no one really knows why. All anyone knows is that they work, and that's as far as anyone's gotten."

"_Ugh,_" Nate moans, shakily getting himself back to his knees. Soon after, he alternates lifting up his knees to his feet, bringing him back to a stand, still slightly looking down in wonder. "You're probably right. That seems…pretty hard to explain…"

"I know you want to be knowledgeable and all," I say, "but nobody knows that one."

"Ah, it's fine," Nate says assuringly, looking back up to me. "I just come from a place where, like, _everything_ you can even think of has been discovered, examined, and explained."

"Well, what's the fun in that?"

"There isn't any," Nate agrees solemnly. "You have to be a lot smarter than even I am there to discover something that's _completely_ new."

"Mmm…I'm sorry to hear it," I reply. How drab; a world where there's nothing left to find that no one else knows.

"It isn't _that_ bad when you're there, I guess," he adds, "but you've got a point there: There isn't too much exhilaration to be had in my world in that retrospect."

With Nate finally back to his full senses, we discuss what exactly to do next. Nate really wants to know how valuable the gems are, probably to know as to how to trade with them. Basing this on Gurdurr's quote, I estimate the value to be worth around fifty Revivers each…but I carefully explain that it's not the best value to go off on, considering the varying natures of merchants. He understands just a little.

"Where I come from, goods are set to a certain value statically; we trade notes and coins worth that amount for it," he explains. Hmm…I _think_ I know what he's talking about there. In some historical tomes, it's said that gold coinage was used as a common currency for buying things with. I've heard of that concept…but again, that was a _history_ book. Needless to say, no one uses that method anymore. If I remember correctly…the system dissolved about ten years after the restoration of Temporal Tower…but that was _ages_ ago. Too long ago that no one mortal probably even exists to remember those times…

"Why would you need to ask such a question?" I ask Nate. "I mean…if five is all that is necessary to pay off a house…isn't that valuable enough?"

"I was only curious," Nate replies. Well _that's_ a new statement. But…he _is_ new here, so he's going to be that way…curious.

With most of my own orientation back, I put my head on swivel, and realize that we aren't _that_ far away from the location of our camp. We might be a little more than halfway there from the entrance…which is where? Oh, right…it's _that_ way! If only orbs didn't disorient me this much…everything would be awesome. But, nothing can be too perfect, I guess. With fuller orientation, I rotate to face left, and start to walk in the direction of the campsite. …But…why does my mind not want to? It's…locking up again…but it can't! I'm not hearing anything out of the ordinary, so it's not whatever that was…but I must power through it. Like Nate said…it's for the all so important house—

"Snivy? Are we, uh, going somewhere?" Nate asks wondrously.

"Yes; the campsite…" Ugh…I didn't mean to trail off there…why?

"You're moving awfully slow to be going back home from that experience in the cave and all…"

"I'm still a bit shaken from that Confusion," I lie. Honestly, I really can't tell if this is me or the Confusion…either way, this is _far_ from being shaken. I'm terribly crippled from whatever this is, not just _shaken._ Ack…why is it…so hard to move now? I never remembered moving to be as hard as…_this._ Am I…just tired from everything…or is this actually all from that supercharged Confusion attack? Maybe the latter…because my mind is all so suddenly bathed in doubt and muddled with reluctance. I just can't…ugh…

"You don't look "shaken,"" Nate accurately rats out from my body language. "I know it's just early evening, with plenty of time left in the day…but I think the house can wait a day for the sake of your hea—" his voice just cuts out. Nothing. I can't even hear the rush of the wind running by the rocks anymore. There's gotta be something for this…I took a Confusion attack…and now I'm falling away from reality…would a…Persim Berry do it? It's the only thing I'd think would work…but would it?

"P-Persim Berry," I finally detach from my mind out to him. I heard myself that time…but it's hard to hear through the sound of my pounding heart, working, trying anything it can to keep me from leaving reality. Yes…I _must_ have one of those; my mouth maniacally waters for the white, tart berry. I…never knew how obsessive I could get over such a simple thing…over something as simple as a berry. It…happened to me with…Nate earlier, but…urgh. This is so strange…I _must_ have a Persim Berry. My…one would be _really_ good…right now…

"What's that?" I can finally hear Nate ask behind, sounding as eager as ever to help. _That was…lucky. I probably won't be able to hear him again through this sound of…rushing blood,_ I realize. I'm…going unconscious again, huh? Yeah, I'd say so; what explains that gray, circular border that now appears in my vision? It's…obscuring more and more. Can I…respond?

"M-medicine…" I find myself whispering, unable to even find strength to speak normally. I'm feeling faint; my knees are…buckling. Colors…fade to monochrome. Not this…_again_…

"…go find one in…_town_…—

* * *

**A/N: There are a lot of weird things going through Snivy's mind in this chapter. But…I'll leave you as to decide which thoughts are actually her own thoughts or her delirious thoughts for now!**

**Thanks for reading. As always, feel free to leave a review as to what you like/hate about this chapter. And…I guess I'll be back tomorrow!**


	13. This is MY New Age

**A/N: My late Wednesday night posting is here. This chapter might be a bit rough with Nate's thoughts; you probably won't be able to put his reasoning together here. In explanation…Nate is feeling so many new feelings at once, that he doesn't know what to think of them. So he won't make too much sense to you or himself. But…one thing will make sense: His dedication to Snivy. Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

_Again?!_ As soon as I began to approach her from behind, Snivy stumbles and caves in, backwards. Seeing her falling, I rush the extra half-foot to her and manage to get some arms on her back, slowing her descent. Instead of having her crash hard on the ground, I guide her fall slowly, making sure that the cruelty of gravity would wrack her body. And slowly…I lay her motionless body to rest on the dry ground. At least she's breathing…so there are no immediate concerns regarding that front. Hmm…she said for me to get a…Persim Berry? I wish I knew what that even was; if I knew every healing item in this world, I would be able to make a better judgment on treatment. She _was_ losing it there…is it possible that her insight was abstracted by whatever came over her? Even if I _did_ know that, there's still figuring out exactly what is wrong with Snivy. She's been acting…weird ever since falling victim to that…Confusion attack, was it? Hmm…maybe I'm still a little bit injured by the attack myself with that uncertainty, but…she's been suffering for way to long after that! She looked like she was acting like someone else…someone with a completely different personality. Someone like…me…?

_There's gotta be another clue to what ails her, right?_ I think, pressing the back of my hand on her scaly neck in an investigation. Despite the warmth from the profuse sweating here, nothing jumps out as alarming from her cool body temperature. Her temp isn't feverish; if anything, it's lower than my own. Are Pokémon still able to be cold blooded? I don't know…I don't know anything! Great! Just…great!

With nothing denoting a fever, and feeling an even heartbeat from the carotid artery (It sure did feel like one, but I'm not sure on that, either), I stand back up. There's nothing irregular here; no scolding temps of a fever, no fluttering heartbeat, nothing! Am I looking at this wrong? Do Pokémon even get sick, or do they just get hurt differently than us humans? I sigh in frustration. _Maybe I should just go get the berry,_ I think, _because there certainly isn't any use in overanalyzing her._

I look both ways across the expanse of the red clay surroundings as a light wind whispers through the dust. _But…I can't just _leave_ her here,_ I think, recalling how urgent her order for me to go into town was. It's for the right cause, sure, but she doesn't expect to be okay by just laying here in unknowing wait for me, does she? This…is my human instinct kicking in…in my world, it's almost completely unethical to leave anyone like this, with her head and body in the uncomforting dirt while her mind swims in the odd realm of unconsciousness. But…I need to do something now…I can't just keep doing _this!_

Before Snivy left me again…she acted in a way that the campsite was _that_ way, the direction ahead of me. Now that I'm regaining my senses from whatever that orb did to me earlier, I can agree with her; the entrance gate is very much visible from this point behind me. It's only a straight walk from here to get to the campsite…but Snivy won't be able to walk there. Wait…is it possible to just…lug her over there? …I don't see any other good means of transporting her motionless figure over there, so it's the only way. I…don't know about this, though…from a medical standpoint. I've always been told to do these sort of things with a plank or something for better support instead of the shaky method of carrying her over. But no one else is here but me, so no one would be able to hold the other end of the plank, if there was one here. I don't know how harmful this will be to her…but I must ensure her safety from an attack or something. And leaving her out here…won't fill that need. That rings especially true after what she experienced today. I can't have _that_…happen to her again, for my sake as well as her own.

* * *

Hmm…Snivy, like I had observed several times before, is very light, thanks to the slender build of hers. Since I'm carrying her now, I can _feel_ her featherweight a lot better than when just pushing her over to her back or something. I'm still amazed as to how she can manage to lift heavy loads, like how she caught me from falling into that river yesterday. I guess those vines do a lot to help her with things like that, given how sturdy they seem to be. I wonder what the biology is on that; how such a seemingly weak creature could make such a big impact with a disproportionately strong set of vines. Man…these creatures never cease to amaze me…and the aspect of being one of them…is somewhat enthralling…

My scientific mind wonders around the magnificence of biology, especially now since I'm in a world where biology is actually interesting. There's a reason why I take chemistry instead of biology: Animals in the real world have never really managed to entice me enough to actually enjoy biology. But, as good of a scientist as I am, I felt it was upon me to take another science course. So, I just took chemistry. But here, everything that exists, including myself, have all of these amazing abilities. Why is it that a Woobat can pull off such a preposterous attack, channeling a blue light beam at an enemy to create such a cataclysmic effect on a mind? How does Snivy even _have_ vines? It's all just…wow! Seeing how awesome Pokémon can be in this retrospect…makes me want to take a biology class here! This just blows chemistry out of the water!

I think about this world's wonders of science for what seems to be the eighth of a mile walk from where Snivy fell to the campsite. It _would_ be useful to actually know the biology and anatomy of these things for medical reasoning…but, like I realized earlier, I need to use what's given to me instead of overanalyzing everything. There might not even be biology classes in this world, so I probably can't trust that I can just go to school over this. The only real way to figure out biology and anatomy of Pokémon, I guess, would be to open one up. I grimace at the thought as I stop in front of Snivy's bristly nest. _With what I did to that Woobat earlier…and with the _luck_ I've been having…I'll probably end up doing just that,_ I think to myself. But…the past is past, and biology can wait. I need to get the Persim Berry, nothing else.

Just as lightly and gently as I had done guiding her fall, I lay Snivy down on her makeshift nest of straw, setting her on her left side. I return to a normal stance, and stare at her, as if my look alone would bring her back. I can feel my face getting longer and longer from sadness as I look at her sad-looking state. _Some things she's been through lately…where _was_ I back there?_

I don't know anything about this world. I just…I don't know anything to make myself even the littlest bit useful to someone else or to my own well-being. Sure, that biology thing isn't a must…but my lack of basic knowledge is so glaring that even I wince thinking about my daftness. I didn't know that I should've attacked the Woobat at the time…I don't know how to properly care for Snivy…or for _anyone_, for that matter. As much as I hate doing it…I seriously need to reconsider Herdier's offer afterward. If he and Swanna really do have as many books in English as they say they do, then I could use all of them. I could use all of the experience I can get, because I may very well be stuck in this world for the long haul. So I can prevent…this from ever happening again.

But that bears another big question: Is it possible that humans have been sent here before? I don't see any other reason how English could even be here. English could be just an ancient language here, but somehow I don't see that being true. It's _way_ too unlikely for this world to just have books in my language from a natural, dead language. If anything, would that mean that this world used to have humans on it? …No, that can't be right either. If humans even did exist here, I highly doubt that any books they made would survive the ages of Pokémon inhabitation. Plus…what even explains that one book in English that I read? It reads as if a Pokémon had written it, considering the topic of battling and what not, yet it reads like something from one of Dante's masterpieces. Does that mean…that my case isn't rare? That someone from Earth, just like me, has been transformed into a Pokémon? If that's so…would it be suicide telling Herdier why I know English…or wait! No! Does that mean…Herdier already knows that I'm a human?! If he's as insightful as he seems, it could be true! Have I…blown my own cover?

_It doesn't _matter!I scold myself, shaking my horned head viciously. _Everyone's going to figure it out one of these days!_ But…how would they treat me then, knowing that I'm so alien to their own kind? Would anyone trust me outside of Snivy? Will I trust anyone outside of Snivy? I guess I'm not exactly as foreign from my Axew-surface…but my personality might be enough to be shunned by the true-breds. But, I can't think about that right now! What matters now is Snivy's health, not where I came from. If anything, where I came from is way too insignificant now. Not like I care about that or anything: The old world is history. This is where I live now. The statement "sad but true," would not apply here. It's just the truth; that's all that it is. At any rate, my thinking will not get Snivy that berry!

As set as I am to go ahead and get what she needs…no, I just can't leave her, not like _this_. It's a lot better for her to be lying in a bed instead of out in the open…but she's still vulnerable to just about anything. Without that house…I can't just call this "good." I've got no idea as to how safe these lands are. Last night, for all I know, could've been an anomaly of good luck. But as bad of a shape as she's in now, something might see that and swoop in for a merciless kill. But if I were to stay here, to watch over her, she wouldn't get the berry she needs so desperately. It's no use contemplating this! Either way, she's going to be worse off! I can't guarantee her safety at all! What kind of friend am I?! God, this is just all so…ugh!

Why in the world would I even let this happen to her in the first place? I just _had_ to hesitate back there; I just _had_ to assume that she would be okay. And after that, everything just fell apart! Now I'm left with a friend out cold for some reason, and I'm left with the ghastly moniker as a murderer, with the blood of something else painted all over me! I _know_ it was justified in defending her life, but one doesn't simply walk away after ending another's. And why…_why_ did I have to slaughter it like that? I granted absolutely no quarter; that makes me as bad as a typical enemy in one of those caves, doesn't it? And…Snivy almost _died_ because of me! It's so terrible how just one bad decision can lead to more and more bad decisions and outcomes. In the process of that, everyone around me, may they be friend or foe, feel my poor decisions physically…and in the end, my self-esteem continues to quickly drain away, leaving only the void of uncertainty.

I know that I'm new here, and I know this is all going to be just a long learning process…but I should be able to help Snivy out more efficiently. I should be able to help others to some degree, despite how inexperienced I am in that field. Tch…it's almost exactly like trying to walk someone through a problem of stoichiometry, except without the proper knowledge and more of the "cryptic speak."

…Well, I might as well do something. As barren and as un-supporting this land is for a creature to make a home out of it, I still don't trust it to be free of hostiles. If we were allowed to sleep peacefully last night, though, she _might_ be alright. And she told me the solution to the problem: A Persim Berry, not "wait here."

_Snivy knows this place just a little bit better than I do,_ I deduct, _otherwise, she wouldn't have bought the land if it was that dangerous, right?_ I look over her body again. As timid as Snivy was when I met her, she probably wouldn't want to get such a land that has the chance of being picked off in your sleep. _So I guess…I need to trust her own word and trust…as law,_ I finally realize, raising my head again to a level position, looking straight over Snivy. Damn…doubt's going to be the death of me…as long as I'm not already dead…but that's not to say doubt won't kill me as an Axew. Man…I've had way too many recurring thoughts recently, with the thinking about Snivy being hurt because of me among other thoughts. One of these days, I'll learn how to think objectively; out of need, not out of wonder. One of these days…ahh forget it; I'm failing already.

* * *

I take about five more minutes standing there, praying for Snivy's safety, until I finally shove off for town, painstakingly leaving defenseless Snivy behind to rest on her nest. Feeling anxiousness from Snivy's uncertain safety set in almost immediately after leaving her, I break into a light run, with my mind now set on making the trip to and from Post Town as quick as possible. I only stop where that orb deposited me earlier in order to pick up Snivy's huge bag, which I had to offload on the ground in order to carry Snivy off to camp safely. I have to collect the one blue crystal that managed to escape the bag back before gathering up the bag completely. I partially unwrap the bag, pick up the crystal that's on the ground not too far from the bag, and push it through the small hole made, granting entrance into the bag. Once through, I hastily rewrap the leaves and place the rope sling over my right shoulder as I kneel on one knee. I push up with the bent knee, and properly throw most of my body weight to the left to counteract the tremendous weight of the stones. I can carry it…but it's certainly not easy. I find myself thinking, _Gosh, all of these small gems sure do feel heavy,_ as I reposition the rope on my right shoulder inward to get a better hold of the bag. _I might need to drop, like, a _lot_ of these in the deposit box. But…redemption first!_

As I run through the gate separating Snivy's land from public property, I come to the realization that I can't maintain the run I had wanted to maintain earlier. This bag is just way too heavy for running with; it makes me feel terrible, being a 16-year-old, able-bodied guy like me. Sure I'm an Axew, but I'd at least think that I'd be able to keep my human endurance limits. And surely, my human willpower would be enough to power through the scourge of fatigue. No…no, that's just wishful thinking. It's not going to happen…ever…in the state I'm in. No long legs, no power, no endurance…just an Axew's weak physical resolve replaces them. I'm only able to draw out the petering out run to the dirt crossroads…and have to slow to a walk. My lungs seem to want me to suffer a relapse of the paralysis I had earlier in that cave. They seem to cry out, begging for an elongated time of inactivity. My legs, however, as heavy as they feel from fatigue and as burnt as they feel from cellular fermentation, invoke the power of a burning mutiny against my breathing organs. In my subconsciousness from tiredness, they carry on through the desperate cries for oxygen from my asphyxiating lungs, even if my legs don't have the power to run any more.

Is it possible…that my mind and body…have merged into one great entity of might? Sure does seem that way: The entity knows that Snivy absolutely needs this treatment, no matter the cost to my own physical being. No matter how much everything in my body wants to waste away from the physical demands my mind gives them…it understands the importance of the task. Why is this happening to me now? It's because the task is a common interest between the two mediums. The interest, the task, is for the one thing in this universe that cares for me in my time of instability and worry. I've been telling myself that so many times before, but I can't simply _not_ think about how important Snivy is to my sanity. I hate admitting this…but Snivy is the most important person that I've ever met…ever. That could be because of how I'm unable to make decent friends back at home, but I don't think that's the case here. I…don't know how to explain it. She's going to bring me back from the world of depression I wallow in every day…that's exciting. And I think…no, I know…that she's going to do just that. I just…need to start acting like I actually respect what she's doing to me in my actions. And so far…I've dug myself a big hole in what I've already done there. She almost died, for God's sake!

I've felt that way ever since Snivy found me lost on that dirt road…that she might just be the answer to every question I have. Of course, back then it was every question about the ins and outs of the new world…but now, it's more like questions as to what the definition of being happy is. I guess that's what friends are for…but I'm certainly not returning the favor. I can't believe I didn't realize this earlier; I might've saved her some trouble had I done so. I need to ready myself to help her out the best I can; not just like this, but also when going out to complete a mission in a hostile territory. Ever since I came into existence in this world, all me and Snivy have been encountering is peril after dreadful peril. We're bound to get a stretch of better luck one of these days…but until then, I need to maintain my obsession of assisting others. I need to stave off whatever the heck wants to come over me…my, uh, Pokémon side…as much as possible. Nothing will ever get better if I unharness that and enter that frenzied mode of rage and hatred. I mean…that's how all of this happened, right? Now I'm here, walking across the short wooden bridge into town, against my body's physical will. I'm gathering that Persim Berry for Snivy…and am gathering up my spirits once again from its shattered state for the millionth time in my life. I need…to help myself through it, too. I can't be dependent on Snivy; that's selfish, isn't it?

I only know what kind of endless nightmare I live in; Snivy sees only that of a mere dream. A dream that, if it were actually my life, would be so much better than what I'm living in. Even if that was true…it would be for naught. I've long left the concept of dreaming after being beaten emotionally time after time again. I'd have a dream, only to have it snuffed by the reality that I really wouldn't get any better from my depression because of my in-evident parents. Without anyone to love…without anyone to trust…there was no point in dreaming when I wouldn't even get any support. I support other peoples' dreams…but they can't support me.

That might be the ignorance in me…or just from my always low morale. Back then…I was just a slab of marble, having parts of me chipped away from my horrendously bleak view of my surroundings back then. But this…this is special. It's a new age…it's _my_ new age. It's time to demolish what used to be my human feelings, and replace them with a new kind of creature, formulated for me. I help myself, and will help others; if I fall down trying, I'll get up a stronger, albeit gentler, spirit from within. I'll be more helpful to others…and less destructive to myself. Strength…is balance; one does not have strength without a strong base. I need to find my base.

No, that's not it. That's just me thinking pointlessly! How does that all even make sense?! I need to face it: I'm just a shell of attitude, while my dark inside grows out into my eyes…into who I actually am. I can't be like that; I need to focus on finding who I actually am through that darkness. I'm not _this_, but something that can be so much better than depression. Well…I guess, since this is my new age: Who do I want to become? …No, I don't think I even know myself enough to answer that question. How silly: I can't even answer such a simple question because I don't even know who the heck I am. I'm not nice to myself, but I'm nice to others…what attribute is that? Selflessness? I would never think selflessness would be so destructive to myself, though. Ugh…it's a learning process, I guess. But…what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, right? As much as it hurts to know I'm unable to find myself…and as to how much it hurts to realize that Kelly Clarkson is, in fact, right…it's a start. A start; I hate myself now for being unable to answer such a simple question as an IB kid, but even that's a start: I, at least, have a simple feeling. Unlike that complex thistle in my heart that can be named depression.

Alright, enough self-thought for once. It's tiring enough just to run, but to think _that_ much, only to get nearly nowhere from pointless reasoning…it's just exhausting. I've gone too far with it…literally: I've wandered all the way to the white-bricked town square, deep inside of my mind. The square isn't too far off from the market…but it's not where I wanted to go. It's almost like this everywhere I go. I find my mind is shrouded in uncertainty, only spurred by the feelings I have for myself, Snivy, and my never-ending pit of darkness. It's weird how I'm so far away from home, yet I can still feel that darkness inside of me, wanting to swallow me whole in its frightful void. How can I have that still while I'm actually away from where my depression originated from, while I'm _worlds_ away from my own? It's…my lingering desire to make others' lives better…but I've failed to do that way too many times here. The aspect of uselessness…is still evident here as it was on Earth. It's only doubled knowing that my parents, my own _parents,_ deserted me because of my uselessness. Now how do I forget the past when my past is as harrowing as that? Yeah…some mental mess I am…

The sound coming from the blue-gray dinosaur-looking thing a handful of yards away in its kiosk makes my mind lucid with the real world once again. I leave my brain's calls for help, my heart's suffering as it hopelessly endures the thistle and weeds of darkness, and stifle them with my signature, false attitude of normalcy. I look around the square and around the seeable portion of town, trying to find Kecleon peddling away. But he's not out and about. I check his store…and he's just sitting there, looking bored under his shop's canopy, shielding him from the intense rays of the early evening sun.

Finding my resolve from the theory of my objective mindset, I start in the direction of Kecleon's store, which is not too far left of the crystal blue creek. With my mind back on the ground, I feel the weight of Snivy's heavy bag return to my right shoulder. Walking is, once more, a taxing activity on my whole body, and I feel the fatigue beginning to multiply in my chest. _I can't spend too much longer in my head,_ I realize, feeling what used to be the strong mind-body relationship fade away to nothing, into the always-hungry maw of darkness. _And just when I think I've figured myself out…my mind rebels against what little motivation I can muster. Is _this _insanity? Am I meant to be an insane Axew?_

"Quite the load you're carrying there," Kecleon observes out loud, not sounding as happy as he did the day before. "But…I doubt you're here to show off your strength."

"Or my lack thereof," I reply contrarily to the situation, feigning laughter in the stead of my muddled mood. Once five feet from the shop post, I slide Snivy's bag onto the ground, letting the rope slip off and away from my right shoulder. The bag makes a loud clacking sound as gem contacts gem upon hitting the ground…but man, do I feel better now. Despite the great weight being concentrated on my shoulder, soothing relief glows in my back, chest, even my feeble legs get a break! Like how anyone would act after feeling such an amazing pressure leave, I deeply sigh, rotating my right shoulder to discourage stiffness, and walk the short five feet left to front Kecleon's counter. Kecleon just leans upon it on the other side, with a left hand under his chin as he leans over.

"We've got a new stock in after yesterday," he says a in a better tone, rising to turn towards the massive stock behind him. It looks like it's almost overflowing with various seeds, berries, and scarves. "But I've always got the necessities. No need for concern if you've got—"

"I'm sorry, but I'm a bit pressed on time here," I interject, not feeling the need for a useless peddling lecture. I'm going to buy something, so that alone should be enough to faze the seemingly-professional merchant.

"You know what you want, then?" Kecleon quickly asks of me, honoring my request for haste. He turns his green-and-yellow stature to look at me intently, waiting for my request.

"A Persim Berry," I copy from what I remembered Snivy say, dropping my head in a slight slant over the strange name of the fruit.

"For the confused mind, no?" he says happily, turning back to his stock to frisk out the item I want.

"Well, I guess so," I say with heavy uncertainty, in a tone that begs for guidance; a trick I enact a lot upon unwilling IB teachers back at Southwest. "Snivy is, uh…down from an attack. I was too, but…she got well more than five seconds worth of a Confusion attack," I add in character. "Man…if I was there…" I taper off there to complete the effect…but the last part was the most sincere part, considering that's how I actually feel about all of this.

"Oh, she'll be fine," Kecleon says sympathetically, trying to dismay my sad-sounding tone. "If she's unresponsive-down, just break," …a pause as he turns to me from his towering stock with two oblong, yet medium-sized, berries, colored white with a slight hue of red throughout. "one of these over her. The juices of it have a very good restoration effect when spread on the body. However, a whole one should be ingested after waking for the full effect."

"I guess I'll need two, then?" I ask. It's not that much of a problem whether I'll need to pay more for more. Health is always worth more than what money can possibly be…period. Now…if only _my_ health was as simple as going to the store…

"No…buy one, get one," Kecleon generously offers, setting the berries on the trading counter. "You seem a little worse for wear with that look of yours."

"Ahh! Sorry about that!" I exclaim quietly, looking down at torso. Sure enough, I had word the blood of another into a peaceful, public setting. I can only hope that he thinks it's my own blood instead of another's.

"Forget _that,_" Kecleon says in response to me looking down. "You're facial expression was awfully troubling to me. It looked to me that this whole thing you're in is concerning you."

"Well…I don't know whether to say sorry or thank you," I say, sighing as I pick my head back up to look at Kecleon, "but I respect your heartfelt and gratitude greatly." I swivel around in a half-circle and lunge forward to grab Snivy's bag. I grasp the middle of the bag with a right hand and pull it closer, closing the distance it was from the counter and me from five feet to two.

"You seem to be a pretty nice Pokémon," Kecleon regards behind me as I unwrap the bag, looking for anything other than the crystals that's worth trading with. But all that's here, other than these crystals, are the Oran, this cherry-looking thing, and the seed I had picked up earlier. _I guess that means that stinging sensation I felt when Snivy was treating my paralysis,_ I start to recall, _was that one seed she had picked up before the Joltik attack._

"I'll do my best to make your day run a little more smoothly, even though Snivy isn't feeling too well," Well…at least _someone_ other than Snivy trusts my word…that's a good sign. _Well…if these gems are as expensive as Snivy said they were…I might as well do him a favor…_ I take a small crystal and turn back to face Kecleon.

"I know it's a bit much, but…it's all I've got to trade with," I lie, placing the uneven stone on the counter. It rocks from how uneven its surface is as I take my hand away from it…oh wow. The stone is catching the sun's rays cast on the counter beautifully as the gem exits the shadow of my once-over-reaching hand. The gem refracts the light given by the sun onto a large portion of the wooden counter, giving the gem a large perimeter of cobalt brilliance. As the stone rocks back and forth, the blue light resulting from the sun hitting the stone moves as it moves, making the blue light seem to go everywhere…until the gem finally finds its balance point, and ceases to move. But the blue light that is still emanating from the crystal onto the now strangely colored oak counter gives the stone a _much_ more valuable look to it. No wonder why these things are so sought out for!

"_My_…that's an awfully fine payment for just these two berries," Kecleon says in amazement, leaving his mouth parted in awe as he pauses. "But…wouldn't you want more for this? I mean…I'm sure I have something back here that's wor—_whoa! _Stop!"

Kecleon quickly shifted his focus on something behind me! Seeing his exaggerated look and remark, both showing alarm, I spin around to check what's going on myself. There's _nothing_ here! Snivy's bag has been swiped! Figuring out the urgency of the situation, I check where all of the other alarmed-looking artisans and merchants in town are setting their attentive sights on, and I re-affix my vision to the rough location of where everyone else seems to be looking. It…appears _very_ gaunt to be able to run with a load as large as the bag's. I think that's…a cream-ish body, with a dull yellow accenting the extreme-lower parts of its body. And there's this odd looking red fin-thing coming out on the top of its head. It's as similar size as me, looking about two feet tall…and it's _gone!_

It crossed the bridge and has disappeared in the distance behind the numerous, obscuring stores set up close to the bridge. And it was so…_fast_…no way I'm going to be able to catch up with it, after how tired me and my legs got carrying the now-stolen bag of rocks. _Rrrgh…no…keep…composure…grrah! I'm…_out of control!

"Hey! Just…go make sure Snivy's okay! We can talk about the pricing of the crystal later…let us deal with the thief!"

_Grr…must pursue…_blood! _Mmm…but Snivy…rgh…_

What's…this?! Twice today?! Gosh…I really am too tired to even try to chase such a fast mover as whatever that Pokémon was, but I…can't _just_ let that creep go…without _punishment!_ Closing my eyes doesn't even help my conflicting thoughts…will I stay…or will I slay? And…these surges of power…must be expended! On…nothing! I can't give in to the…_power_…that drives me to my vengeful side! This…isn't…balance _at all_…

"Hey, hey, hey! Don't collapse on me now! Snivy needs you now!"

Head is…spinning in a hurricane of rage and…stress. I can't possibly…continue to stand under such…a clash of ideas! Doubt will not be the death of me…but this Pokémon side…will!

"Why don't you tell him what he wants to know, Kecleon? The thief went to Hazy Pass!"

"Wait…you…_know?_" I ask the new voice, head still down and facing the soft grass of town, kneeling over. I take deep breaths…trying anything to channel away my rage. That _was_ what I wanted to know…this dizziness I have is ebbing away…

"Yeah!" another voice, similar but different in pitch, says.

"You heard them! Go deal with the thief later!" Kecleon persists behind me. "Just…take the Persim Berries; I'll hold onto the crystal for later! You _need_ to help Snivy!"

"My bet is that he'll still be there by dusk…and probably will still be there tomorrow," the first new voice says, "so…you _can_ afford to do the job later."

_Snivy…as much as this pains me to say it…the house is going to have to wait now. You're more important to me than an emotionless house…_

I don't need to stay here any longer, so I quickly jump back to a stand, rotate to take the two Persims offered to me from Kecleon's counter and sternly nod Kecleon down in thanks. Without spending any more time to get a response, I head out in a spirited stride. Towards the bridge…towards Snivy…

"Hey." I turn around and start walking backward…and I see the two smaller carpenters from this morning. They're loosely following me, carrying their cumbersome pieces of wood.

"Good luck," the second voice, coming from the right-most one, says solidly. They don't add another word or action; they completely stop following me, letting their gazes escort me out of town.

"Thanks," I reply quickly with a curt nod. I catch a brief glimpse of them mimicking my nod before I turn and return to fast-walking speed…walking out of town. Somehow...after all of that…I'm still sane. But it's hard to keep a motivated mind after experiencing such a corruption of my being. No…objective thinking now: Now _is_ now. Now is Snivy's welfare, not those pretty rocks that we can always go get again if need be. I didn't chase after the thief, but I let that other side overcome me. Was that a victory…or a loss…of myself?

xxxXXXxxx

**A/N: And hopefully that chapter will mark the last of the psychology-heavy content. I'm sorry if that was a bore to you…but Nate's depression needed a reinstatement. If you hated this chapter, or like something about the chapter/book...please review about it! I love those reviews!**

**Next chapter will be, like I've said before, less thinking and more action; I promise!**


	14. So-So Suicide

**A/N: Here's a super late chapter. Sorry for the wait!**

* * *

_Considering what happened back there…maybe this world _is_ as messed up as Snivy said it was,_ I think, passing through the red-rock gateway to Snivy's barren lands. _Is that why I'm so volatile? Is that why those gems were stolen from me in the first place?_ But surely…that insane temper I've recently acquired has got to be from me, right? I managed to control it once back in the square, but, oh, how it drained me! I really, really, unworldly want to chase down that criminal! But…how and why would I do that? I'm so inexperienced, so…_useless._ I guess that's one thing that hasn't changed from my world of origin and this one: My usefulness in helping people out. It's at the level of explaining stoichiometry.

Not only that, but I am absolutely out of it now. Everything that happened back there has compounded into this spectacular level of fatigue. It's such a concentrated level of exhaustion that I feel like I could just keel over if I continue reasoning with myself. I would not be opposed to doing just that; to just collapse on the falsely soft dirt ground, right here, right now. But I cannot trust Snivy's land enough for my own safety if I were just to hunker down in broad daylight. Which reminds me…I need to get back on task! Snivy's possibly in trouble…and for more reasons than just her mysterious ailment!

And why, why can I not get Snivy away from the front of my mind? It can't just be because she's in trouble, because I've been feeling like this before this all happened. I only met here a mere twenty-four hours ago…and I jump to the conclusion that she's going to make everything right for me. Is it…wrong that she could be my role model because of her innocence? Snivy isn't even a human role model; is that bad? She's not a human role model at all…she's something that not even my wildest dreams could even approach to conjure! Is it possible that I feel this way because I've never been in such a relation—…no, I've already gone over this with myself. Enough circular thinking!

Oddly, the fatigue that ravages my entity has a secret benefit in that I can actually work on my objective thinking rather than dead-end reasoning. Slowly…my mind cleared, giving way only to the task at hand: Get back to the campsite. As tired as I am, I would assume that thinking would be easier than walking the long eighth mile to the campsite. The tiredness also begins to remind me of how long of a day I've had. Heck, even after I get Snivy better…this day might not be over afterwards…because of that stupid gem thing. I guess, as long as I stay away from my new, murderous side, I'll be fine. If I end up getting another conflict with myself and that side…I don't think I could dismay the temptation of malice again. As long as I stay out of trouble…ah! The campsite's only a few lengths away!

I almost want to dash over to Snivy's aid…and more importantly, my uncomfortable "bed." But I don't think I could muster running in the tired state I'm in, so I just walk the few lengths up to the site. I can see the ashen fire pit, my nest…and Snivy, still down and seemingly away from reality. ...she's still facing off to the left…the same way I had placed her earlier.

"Snivy," I say, changing course and approaching her specifically. Ten seconds…and nothing. If she's been out for this long…thirty minutes or more…maybe these Persim Berries won't actually work. Maybe she needs something more…but my inexperience…grr…I'll have to stick with this.

I stop a couple feet away from her hampered form. She has not been disturbed by an outside force, by the looks of the non-existent trauma marks on her slim body. Nothing did come around to taking a finishing blow on her, but Snivy's still in a bad way with…whatever she's come down with. Enough worrying; let's see if these berries will actually work!

To free up a hand, I place one of the Persim Berries on Snivy's nest, right up against her back. With my right hand now free, I grip an end of the oblong berry in the hand, and shift my left hand up to where the stem of the berry used to be. Holding both ends of the berry in a proper breaking position, I double check Snivy. She's still breathing smoothly and soundly, almost as if she's been sleeping peacefully for all this time. But she's not: As I saw last night, she looked so serene that she might've been dreaming good dreams all that time. It's…almost hard to explain how she looked that way, but she did; I know it! But here, there's no serenity to be found on this half of her face (the other half is resting on the ground, likely portraying the same thing). Her eyelid, I guess, doesn't appear as light and free as they did last night. Here, it's strained from something…why would that be? I would make a guess as to what she's ailing from, but inexperience…will just stop me time after time. No use in that; might as well get to the berry.

Finished looking her over, I position the berry held in my light grip directly over her side. Not wasting any more time, I begin to expend what remaining strength I have into my arms, in an effort to create the shear force necessary to break the berry. But…rrr…it's not going! The thing is as firm as an apple! I'd think that, at least the oblong shape of the berry would make the job of breaking it a lot easier, much like breaking a pencil—there! The Persim finally ruptures under my persistent, applied force. Because I pulled up on the berry, a small, clear cloud of juicy mist sprays down onto Snivy. The mist settles on her upper body, giving her a brief glistening look before the diamonds of the juice either dried away or slipped in between her micro-sized scales. With the berry only slightly cracked, I continue to split the berry easily, halving it in no time. Even more mist erupts from the pinkish-white berry, falling on to encase Snivy in its aqueous luminescence.

The alleged medicine, however, doesn't seem to cause any immediate effects…and, like the last time, the juices disappear, reducing Snivy's look to normal. If anything, her arms are experiencing some spastic action…but only from the body's normally delayed CNS in this circumstance. Wait…do Pokémon even have…never mind! What matters here is that her eyes don't seem to have been liberated from their distressed veil after treatment. _Stop being paranoid, Nate,_ I sleepily think to myself, slowly deviating over towards my own nest, dropping the expended halves of the Persim. _Things like this never work immediately._ Finding myself at my bed much sooner than expected, I finally decide to give my tattered body a well-deserved rest, plopping down in…the _surprisingly_ comfortable nest of straw and feather. _Get well soon, Snivy. We've got a demon to catch…ugh…_

* * *

"_Heeey!_ Now's not exactly the best time to take a nap, ya know!"

"Urgh…" I instinctively emit, trying to open my once-locked eyes. Sleep is such a wonderful thing, with how you can just…drift off at any time you feel, without even realizing it. The only bad thing about it is how achy you feel when your sleep is…interrupted like this. Yeah…it feels like I had just run a marathon only hours ago…not like I've ever run a marathon before, but I can assume.

Through the slits of my lazy eyelids, I can see the sun's light has dimmed significantly from when I slumped over to sleep. It's a standard sunset sky, with those signature hues of calming lavender clouds, along with a tame orange throughout, all being chased away by a growing color of deep blue in the east. No rain clouds are above; only the wispy cirrus clouds miles above are influenced by the ever-running river of the wind. I must admit; it's not the worst thing to be waking up to after such a day…which may not even be over yet. Well…_I_ want it to be over now. _For God's sake, Snivy, let me sleep for a fortnight._ I think at her, closing my eyes again.

"You okay there?" Snivy asks, annoyingly nudging me with a vine. I keep my eyes closed.

"No!" I snap bitterly.

"How so?" Snivy asks again, sounding more taken aback from my remark than concerned from it. I don't think I'm legitimately angry at anyone…I'm just tired. And…angry at myself, I guess, for what went wrong today.

"Look, nothing went right for me today," I reply in a less-heated tone. I keep my eyes closed, hoping I can get another chance to sleep.

"Oh, c'mon Nate!" she says light-heartedly, obviously trying to discourage my poor morale. "You revived me…and we're going to get a house! How can you even think of sleeping through the excitement?!" _I've got a question for you: How can you be so happy all the time? Especially now…when there isn't a bag of gems in sight!_

"We're not getting a house, Snivy," I fend off sternly through my still closed eyes.

"What?! I thought you wa—"

"When I traded for those two berries, someone got smart and swiped the bag behind my back," I explain, opening my eyes to the sky again. _I don't think I'm going to get any sleep from this…_

"No! You're _kidding!_" Snivy exclaims, with a slight edge of harshness.

"Yes, Snivy. They're gone," I persist, tired of talking.

"Oh Nate, I…I really don't want to go back to that cave to get more—"

"And who said I _wanted_ to be _here,_ Snivy?" I ask harshly, trying to snap her from her fearful tone. "Sometimes, you just have to do things you don't want to do. That's called life!" And…silence. I hate to pile drive nails like that into people…but sometimes, it has got to be done. Snivy needs to stop being so scared of things and start realizing that the need-to basis trumps all. But…I'm still not angry at her. She never knew that, so I'll give her that. I'm more worried about how she's faring after that Confusion attack…and in hating myself for how I even let that happen.

"It's not like that, Nate! You don't understand," Snivy says…with a surprising tone of darkness. Well _that_ was an interesting response. Hearing her mood un-stabilize with that comment, I opt out of replying, to see if she wants to explain herself.

"I don't know why, but…I saw some fantastic things when I was…presumed dead, I suppose. And not in a good way," Snivy ends up explaining from my silence. "Those Persim Berries…they did a lot, but my mind…feels off from what I saw back there…I don't want to suffer a relapse." Hearing the great amount of difficulty Snivy is having in her explanation, I finally decide to roll towards her voice, to see if I can talk to her face to face. Rolling to the right, I can only see her green back, with that crisp-looking, sun-strike yellow stripe running all the way from the base of her head to the end of the tail, tapering on the way down. The huge green leaf on the end of her tail is drooping slightly on the ground, possibly a sign of Snivy's inner strife. She's facing away from me, turned to what seems to be the eleven o'clock position.

"If you want me to help you, then let me help you," I remind Snivy, recalling her own words.

"Why should I expect you to do that after disrespecting my fragile state?! You could've shown some decency in how touchy I am about going back to a place where I got seriously injured!" Snivy bursts, perking her tail and turning one flaming eye on me.

"I was just being factual with you," I explain, trying to calm her down with a calm tone of my own. From the volatility of the moment, I get myself up to a sitting position. "And sometimes, facts are the things that we don't want to hear."

"You could've said it like you were okay with the truth," Snivy fires back lamely, crossing her arms.

"I'm not, Snivy, don't you see?!" I ask hotly, annoyed by her ignorance of my personality. "Do you think that I've taken the truth easily?! What I know is that I'm a human in a world of Pokémon! With that said, how can you even _define_ truth to me?! This could all be a fantasy to me, but it's way too real for me to prove that. So I'm going to be stuck here for, I don't know, years!"

"Then I guess you'll have to deal with it until then!" Snivy insults, closing her fiery eyes in her spite, acting to ignore me.

"Not without you, I can't!" I send back. "You're the only reason why I live today! Heck; where would _you_ be without me?!" No response. And soon after, she breaks eye contact with me. _She's folding!_

"Why don't you answer it, Snivy?" I ask smugly, smiling a little.

"I don't want to answer because you're right," Snivy replies, sighing. "Because, ever since my father…" …she's unable to finish the sentence. She only slightly opens her eye, looking down at nothing. _What am I doing? I should be more respectful of her feelings…I shouldn't just bash her because she's reluctant to do something out of bad memory…I would hate to get assaulted by that Woobat again, if it happened to me._

"Look, I'm sorry about all of this, Snivy," I finally decide to apologize for the ill-placed temper. "I'm just tired, and I'm wrongly—"

"If anyone should be apologizing, it'd be me," Snivy says, opening her eyes more to continue looking at the ground. "You've been taking care of me for all of this time; the least I could do is let you rest…"

"I'm not sure how "all of this time," can equate to two days," I start, "but, I guess you just got unlucky with that Woobat. I get why you're reluctant to get those crystals the regular way again." Snivy kicks up some dirt for no apparent reason.

"Well, I…"

"Look, just…don't worry about it. Your heart's in the right place." I cut, trying to make her feel a bit better.

"Why do you say that?" Snivy asks, looking up to me, putting both eyes on my own.

"You care for me," I explain. "You've saved my life so many times; that's gotta be worth something! If anything, we're even."

"I can say the exact same for you, then," Snivy says. "You've saved my life a handful of times…and you helped me back from unconsciousness there."

"Well…I don't know. That's just my natural instinct of trying…to make others' lives better," I deflect, "but that…was something else. You're important to me, and I just…can't imagine seeing you like that, in that state of pain. And the cave just…ugh…" I finish oddly due to an instinctive shudder from seeing her on the ground of the cave, with eyes wide open and vines everywhere. _I guess I could be a little reluctant to go back to the cave in a way, too,_ I realize after the strange shudder. But still…how could I let that happen to her? How could I let her almost die? I'll be taunting myself about that for a long time, but…whoa! Why is Snivy holding her head in such stress?

"Is this the same thing that you've been experiencing, Snivy?" I ask urgently, forgetting about the argument.

"I…I think so," Snivy drawls, slightly growling to power through pain. "Ever since that Confusion attack, I've been having…strange reminiscences of voices as well as those visions."

"So…the Persim didn't help?" I ask, fearing the worst. I would've done something more…if it wasn't for this inexperience!

"It should've worked more," Snivy replies, closing her now-strained eyes. "But my mind is still…wildly thinking of things I never want to think about…" _Uhh…is this a coincidence, or…is this what I think it is?_ Come to think of it, I think about things I never want to all the time. Sure, most of the thoughts are brought on by myself, but I never want to remember my parents. It's almost like she's feeling exactly what I'm feeling…or is that possible for a creature like her to possess such a "complex" feeling?

"Do you feel, uh…_saddened,_ by all of this?" I finally decide to ask. Snivy releases the grip on her head momentarily to nod several times.

"The visions I saw there were just…" Snivy opens her eyes…which not only look strained, but now glazed with tears as well, over those soft amber irises. "…unbearable. _Unforgettable…_" No way! _Is_ it possible she's feeling what I've been feeling? Because it's becoming more and more plausible every time she even moves. And, as if the feeling of connection alone is strength, I'm compelled to rise to a stand, through all of this pain, to face her lamentable stature.

"Snivy," I start calmly, "do you…care to share what you saw?"

"I, uh…" Snivy starts with great trouble, still holding her head with both of those slim arms. But…she releases the grip on her head again…only to violently shake her head. "No. No; I don't even want to…" …a pause, allowing a deep sigh to escape the depths of her chest. The sigh seems to have summoned a pair of tears from her shaky eyes. "…to think about it. Just…no…"

"Help yourself a little Snivy," I coax, reminding her of what she said earlier today…again. "No one gets any better with pent-up…" I trail off quickly after that, stopping my sentence. _Well…I never tell anyone what _I_ experience in my head to anyone,_ I remember, thinking about the words I had said. _If I said that…Snivy might recognize that it's not working for me…and would reject the idea…because it doesn't work. Even if I tried to actually do it myself, it still wouldn't work for me. Because those thoughts are still there…_

"I can only help myself…by forgetting…" Snivy breaks in my silence's stead. Not long after that statement, she slowly, drops her arms away from her drooping head, back to their respective sides. Soon after, she perks her head back up, eyes clear of strife. I _guess_ she's…better now…because those eyes just changed so swiftly from sadness to normalcy as soon as those arms dropped. Well…if forgetting helps her so much…maybe I should give it a shot, too. _I'm an Axew…not a human. What's a human? I don't know!_ Well, ah…maybe not like _that…_

But I really don't think I could possibly faze her from her resolve to forget, anyway. That's advice that a counselor would give, and nobody listens to counselors. So why would she listen to _my_ "counselor talk?" There's no point in counseling Snivy! None! I know just forgetting isn't the best method, but she's not a human. Maybe Pokémon can forget better than us humans can. Because…Snivy _does_ seem fine now. Yeah…she's got it under control…no worries.

"Alright, Nate," Snivy says in one of her seemingly signature, upbeat tones. The fire that blazes in her eyes is not in the hatred of me anymore…but of confidence. A confidence that would have no problem in beating any other emotion that lingers inside of her. If only I could conjure up such an intense, cleansing feeling. If only—

"Nate! You're doing it again!" _Ack!_ Hearing Snivy's voice penetrate through my thoughts snaps me out of fantasy, giving me a more realistic view of the world. Those eyes aren't on fire…they're normal! What was I thinking?

"Doing what?" I quickly ask in an effort to stall Snivy's questions about me.

"You were drifting off again!" Snivy answers cheerfully. "I just worry for the day when you go so far as to drift away from this place!" I _know_ she means well by that…but isn't that what I'm doing right now? This whole thing I'm experiencing _is_ just imagined, right? But…like I said earlier, I can feel way too much for this to be just a dream. It's so real it's…ridiculous! But…enough circular thinking.

"Well, uh…" I start slowly, trying to start a more productive topic, "what do you want to do about all of…_this_?"

"I say we pursue!" Snivy boldly says, lifting her head high to show her confidence.

"Wait, wait, wait!" I quickly demand after her outburst, thrusting my arms out and back once for each word. Snivy turns to the side and levels her head, keeping only one eye on me now.

"Uhh…I don't see any better ideas," she says flatly; a large difference from her once-positive charisma.

"Aren't there, uh, Pokémon who specialize in groups to take care of criminals?" I continue through Snivy's apparent pessimism. "I'm not saying that we _can't_ do it…but shouldn't we let someone know about this?" I guess what I'm trying to ask is, "What about the local police force?" I've never believed in actually chasing a bad guy to their home turf just to get even, much less to get your replaceable stuff back. Especially not in this case, where informing the authorities would be the better option, because there's always even force, if guns are involved. But, I don't think there is such a weapon that even exists in this primitive locale. The only weapon there is here are my physical abilities and their physical abilities. That's not to say that it's impossible to be killed…but without the sheer force of a Glock or something…it's really anyone's game. A game that I wouldn't mind playing if I knew more about this place…and a game I wouldn't need to play if I didn't make that idiotic mistake back there…

"Now that you mention it…explorer teams will deal with 'em sometimes," Snivy answers, looking down. "But there are no such organized peacekeeping groups here."

"Ugh…" I spit out in disgust. I violently kick up some of the red clay that outskirts my nest to display my displeasure better. Of course nothing goes my way! Because, honestly…acting as a sort of vigilante against a force unknown is not too appealing to me. I just saw one thief back in town…but that's not to say that the thief is alone in his work! But…I guess we'll have to do it. Snivy will not want to go through that cave for the rest of her life, in the way she's treating it. It's understandable, but annoying nonetheless. So…this _is_ the only option. The only way to get a house…is by fighting for it. With the lack of that "explorer team," I guess…we'll do it.

"Alright...we'll pursue," I finally say bitterly. I just wish that I could get some more energy back from when I ran that errand. If I hadn't have ran so quickly…I'd be rearing to go.

"Nate, I'm sorry about this, but I really can't see myself going back through that cave," Snivy responds sadly, turning both eyes back on me.

"It's fine," I say sharply. "I'm just exhausted from everything we've been doing today." I shoot a neutral glance at Snivy before stepping of in the direction of the gate. As I pass Snivy on my left, I can see her track my path with her eyes through my peripheral vision…before finally overtaking her position. My dragon legs may burn like fire from fatigue…but this new, strong resolve of mine prevails, converting reluctance into desire. _This must be done…for my persona's sake as well as for Snivy._

"Hey, where are you—"

"I'm going to get the house," I state, continuing on with my stride.

"If you're so exhausted, then why take such initiative?" Snivy asks from behind, rushing up to side me on my left, assuming my quickened pace. I take a sideways glance at her green and cream side before speaking, acknowledging her presence.

"Because I'm angry," I reply simply.

"Why?"

"Because I let those gems slip out of my hands once," I explain harshly, quickening my pace from rage. "That's once too many. So many that I'd probably spend a night thinking about how I could let such a thing escape me if we didn't get them back tonight."

"Nate, that isn't right!" Snivy cries tersely, running up to catch up to my quickening pace. This time, I don't even look at Snivy. I'm looking exclusively at the dusty ground ahead, leading to the exit of this place.

"I'm surprised you aren't grateful for my approach," I say to Snivy. "I mean, I _am_ doing what you want us to do, right?"

"You've got to be kidding me!" Snivy gasps. "Doing something from anger is never a good idea!"

"It's all that I have left, Snivy!" I fiercely snarl. "So you'll either roll with it or go without a house!" I _know_ Snivy's trying to make me better…but this isn't the same. I'm not feeling depressed, right? I don't know why she's so opposed to my ambition to—gah!

My left foot caught something as it moved forward, causing me to trip up and take a hard fall into the dirt. Had it not been for some quick reflexes, my forearms would never have caught my fall. But I tripped…from what? That was no rock; it felt too…organic…or something like that. No matter, there's nothing like falling to cause even more self-frustration.

"I'm NOT going to see you kill something else, Nate!" Snivy screams out from behind, about as irritated as I am. _Why…would she remind me?!_

"Why on Earth would you think that?!" I fire back, quickly rising to a stand to face a fierce, yet desperate-looking, Snivy, withdrawing…her right vine…

"You said it yourself!" Snivy spits loudly. "You said you got angry after I woke up as an…_excuse_ for ending that Woobat's life!"

"You're going to tell me that after telling me that it was justified?" I question hotly, taking an aggressive step forward.

"So what if it was justified?" Snivy continues intensely, taking a cautious step backwards. "Whatever you did to it was excessive! Overkill!"

"The only difference between overkilling and not is none!" I defend. "Dead is dead!"

"Why can't you just…rgh!" Snivy is definitely angry with me…but why? Isn't redemption as good of a cause as any? Can't she see that? I guess not…as she continues to stare me down menacingly, with teeth crunched down and eyelids slanting severely downward. "You know what? I'm not going to see a slaughter." Snivy completely turns around, starting back intently for the not-so-far-off campsite. Before completely storming off, she surprisingly stops and turns an eye on me. "Go alone, for all I care! Come back when you realize that self-discipline, too, is as good of a trait for humans to have! If you won't let me help you, then leave!"

Finally, she stomps off, leaving me to my thoughts. Well…you know what? Maybe I _will_ do this alone. And…if I do succeed, maybe I'll just keep the house to myself! If Snivy's going to be this way…then I don't need her.

I'll show her that rage is as good of a motivation as any. That, the quest to redeem oneself from such a silly mistake is as righteous as any other mission. I've got to make myself different to depart from what I was in the old world…and doing this will achieve just that. I can't just sit around and hope for things to change…I must act! And with this new power I have…why not? And with the reward of succeeding so high…it's a no-brainer. I will get those gems tonight!

I was wrong. Snivy doesn't understand me. She only sees that false illusion of what are my real problems, like everyone else. And, I guess the real problem with me, is being here, with Snivy's unbelievably relaxed, yet deceptive, mindset. I'm starting to doubt her value to me…I care for her in the false hope that she'll actually help me out of the third world I actually live in. I'm such a fool. No one can help me. I'm still an unwanted, unneeded, and inexperienced teenager at the end of the day.

Maybe I should've left her without those Persim Berries. Maybe I never should've never taught her how to speak in public, or how to be brave to strangers. Maybe I should've just…left her to die there in Ragged Mountain. Doesn't matter to me; Snivy's been giving me all of this hope, only to reveal its falseness so violently. If something you once idealized is just taken away from you like that…you're left worse off than before. Like a teenage relationship. Like how I am now.

It doesn't even matter if I'm actually killing myself by facing this threat alone. That would be a lot better than living in a world like this, full of liars, cheaters, and stealers. I've thought of killing myself back when I was human, but I was a fool then. As bad as I had it there, life was better there than here. This…is my punishment. I'll have no more of it!

As long as I go out fighting, nobody will ever notice my concealed resolve to exit existence, if things do go wrong for me. And that…would be just fine with me. Besides…no one cares enough to notice something from me. So why should I even try to find a friend if I've never found one in my two years of this mess?

It's settled, then. Snivy? I hope you're fine without me…because you seemed awfully dependent in my time with you. But you will…you lied to me, like how everything else has. I doubt you even cared for me…it was all a lie. Why would I let you do that to me? Because of how vulnerable I was at the start of all of this? Mmm…it all only makes my rage grow more…all of these mistakes lead to this…revelation: That I…am nothing more than a tangle of thistle and weeds. Hazy Pass…here I come…

* * *

Upon reaching the crossroads, I stop to rest my aching legs. The feeling of fatigue in my chest is deep; enough for the body part to feel hollow, but not enough to stop me and my semi-suicidal mission. I step off of the rough dirt path leading up to the joining roads into the silky soft grass. And without a care, I fall backwards into the grass for a short rest. Not a regrettable choice; the grass caresses my back and sides gently, despite the medium length; like the length of rough at a typical golf course.

I never remembered grass being this soft anywhere in my world. The grasses in Galena, no matter how cultivated, are still fairly bristly…and always give you this itchy feeling after lying in grass for too long. But this stuff…man, I could do this all day!

Unfortunately, I don't have too much of the day left. The dying sky is losing its color of lavender and orange, giving way to the much darker, night colors of deep blue. There is still a hue of red permeating throughout the sky, but not much: The sun is finally slipping away from view on this part of the planet, giving up to the dark clutches of night. If I want to get the house back…I only have an hour or so to do it. It seems more and more inevitable that I'm going to be performing a night operation. I'm not too sure about my chances in the unsecure cover of night…but it doesn't matter too much, anyways. I'm either going to get it done…or not. Either way, I succeed. Easy.

Well…if there isn't too much time left, what am I doing in the grass? Lazily looking at the dusk's brilliant skies? That's silly; I've probably spent five minutes doing just that. That's five minutes too many! But…at least some of the pain from Snivy's deception…and from my aching legs has faded off just a little. But that rage…that rage from the fact that I'm a failure at everything I strive to do in life…boils on high. I kept my hopes too high…even in this new world, I'm of no use. I can't fight to save anyone's life…I can't help anyone efficiently…I let that house literally slip from my grasp…I trusted Snivy. None of those can be reversed now. The only solutions now, are to win back the house…or die trying.

Feeling a surge of urgency to get to my destination, I slowly bring myself up into a sitting position in the grass. The grass underneath almost begs for me to stay on the ground, to remain in its comforting grasp. But I must ignore it, as nightfall will descend soon. As much as I can see in the dark, sun is still a good thing to have, no matter how minimal the light level may be.

Since I fell on my back, I'm sitting up facing away from the crossroads. After a few more benign thoughts, I rise quickly from the sitting position, not relying on my knees, which would need ground placement—an extra step—to do so. Now upright, I take a deep breath as my legs begin to ache again.

"Hmm…Hazy Pass is just a handful of lengths northwest of here. Take tae first path splitting left from this north crossroad only tae get there…"

Someone's behind me! I quickly whirl around and stop, putting the crossroads into view. _Is that…that dog-Pokémon I saw at the inn today?_ It's the same exact one, with that bluish upper pelt and brown lower. Although the star-faced dog is shadowed by the sunset's odd lighting…there's no mistaking that figure, color scheme, or rusty voice, as anyone else's…but Herdier's!

My abrupt spinning motion happened to catch his eye, demanding his attention be set on the anomaly coming from the grass. _Perfect. Now he's going to knock some sense into me or something,_ I think pitifully, knowing that Herdier may figure out my motives for the night ahead.

"Oi there! Didn't expect to see ye here this late!" Herdier greets me jubilantly, remaining in his position. "I trust that you're having as good of an outing as I am, no?"

"I'd say so," I lie in a normal tone. "But…what's that you're…saying?" Herdier flicks his head back as an answer…as if he's motioning me to approach him. I oblige; this could be useful.

"I was reading this…text in the dirt here," he properly answers as I step out onto the gritty surface of the dirt crossroads. "Come take a look for yerself." Now why would that be? Who writes information…in a high-traffic area as this? Compelled even further, I have no problem dismissing the pain in my legs to walk the remaining distance to side Herdier. Herdier, however, moves his towering self off a ways to the left, graciously allowing me to center myself up to the bottom of the script. As I assume Herdier's old position…I quickly realize that the scratching in the dirt resembles the mysterious glyphs of what is runic.

"Now…if I read it right…it's addressed tae you," Herdier adds on as I fake a reading motion. "Besides, I dinnae ken who else hath such a nickname as "The Messenger of Arceus""

"I'm sorry?!" I exclaim, quitting the fake reading of the runic scripture to give Herdier a complete look of surprise. _A-Arceus? What's that?_

"Well, ye _do_ have that ability to read tae language of divinity," Herdier says to me lightly, "but that ability alone certainly shouldn't automatically give ye that wonderful moniker!" Oh my…he's right, and he doesn't even know it! English _is_ a language derived from what where called the Romantic Languages. Could that be a misinterpretation of something? To where English is called the language of divinity? …flattering…I don't know if Herdier actually meant it that way, or is skewing the truth…but I can't think of a way as to how "divine" wouldn't work there.

"Is that all it says?" I ask again. "For my name, that is?"

"Ye read it there, didn't ye?" Herdier asks, giving me a blank look. And like before…I forget that I'm…inexperienced. Grr…now I'm in a mess.

"Well, ahh…" I…I don't know what lie to give next! It's either make a really, _really_ shallow lie…or give myself away…wait! Snivy said something about how Pokémon don't use paper much. If that's true…then this world might not differ much from a pre-Johann Gutenberg Europe…a lack of books…and literacy! That bookshelf in Swanna'a Inn was small enough…so why wouldn't this be true? I'm just an illiterate Axew!

"I've grown up alone my whole life, without any parents around to even teach me runic," I say flatly, trying to sell the lie the best I can. But…much like how you feel in poker, when you've got an ace-jack, and you know the other guy has, at least, an ace-king…my heart tries to run away from its place in my chest cavity, beating fiercely as I set up the triple barrel bluff. I really don't know why, because Pokémon seem to be pretty acceptable when it comes to lies. Maybe it's because…Herdier might be the only one here who possesses an IQ higher than mine.

"I see. But how, then, do ye ken tae language of divinity?"

"Oh, I don't know," I respond, looking down to avoid Herdier's probing stare. "I just…know." I look back up again to watch Herdier, waiting for a response.

"Interesting," he says, bobbing his head up and down at the beginning and end of the word, respectively. "I'm sorry to hear it, but there are several others in your position. Illiteracy isn't rare outside of Post Town."

"It's fine," I follow through with my lie. "I get what I need done well enough without it."

"Well…if that's tae case," Herdier starts, looking back at the scripture. I follow his gaze, acting like I care about learning about the odd-looking writing. "It does say, "or the Axew that had bad luck," after that, to show some decency." So…it had to be from someone who saw me read the book this morning…and who saw my stuff being…ah! It has to be from those two Pokémon who told me to go to Hazy Pass! That's right; they're the ones who snapped me out of "murder mode" in town!

"I hate to ask you of this, knowing our un-acquaintance," I start slowly, looking at the runic, "but can you translate it for me? In words?"

"Not a problem; it's a short read," he agrees. I just nod in response, waiting.

"Hazy Pass is just a handful of lengths northwest of here. Take the first path splitting left from the northern crossroad only, to get there. Your things should be there," Herdier reads out. "Signed by the two Timburr you saw in town. P.S.: If you're reading this before one sun has set…and if you come before the light disappears…we'll stall the baddies for you."

"Hmm…that's awfully nice of them," I observe out loud, looking down the curvy northern road that just happens to be in front of the text from this perspective. But if the Timburr _are_ stalling for me…what am I up against?

"I heard about what happened in tae square today," Herdier says, sounding sympathetic. "You're trying tae get your belongings back, then?"

"Yeah," I reply with a nod as I continue to look down the darkening dirt road. "No one else will do it, so I guess I will." Finally, I'm talking the truth again! Well…sort of!

"Well…more power to ye!" Herdier says, sounding like he's moving around behind me. I turn to the right, just in time to see Herdier stop to face me again, at about two o'clock. "But…talking to ye reminds me…I need to chat with your friend Snivy. Do you ken her whereabouts?" I could almost growl at Herdier for saying that I'm Snivy's friend…but I'm acting this out way too well to break character now. I can't get him suspicious of my motives. If I do…my plans are ruined.

"Take the east path all the way down," I direct, pointing down the mentioned path. Herdier sensibly looks down the road, listening to me. "When you see everything turn red from dirt…keep going. Those are her lands…and if you maintain course, you should find her in our campsite. You can't miss it."

"Alright, then," Herdier says. "Thanks for tae guidance. I'll remind you, again, that our deal is still valid. If you're interested in reading some more divinity text…and learning some more things from it…let me know."

"I'm in the process of reconsidering," I reply to him solemnly. "But that event that happened at the inn was something…out of the blue."

"Well…it's there if ye want."

"Sure," I reply, nodding in appreciation. Feeling like the conversation has ended, I begin to take the northern path, stepping over the runic passage underfoot.

"Wait." I stop dead in my tracks, feeling my heart throb in my throat like nothing before. _Has he…seen through the lies?_

"Are ye sure about what you're about tae do?" Herdier asks in his inquisitive, rusty voice. "You're chasing a criminal; they typically know what tae do about those who chase them down. And often…it's not pretty."

"Maybe I'm not too sure," I reply truthfully and solidly. "But no one else will get them back. I must do this, whether I like it or not." I don't face Herdier; he might see something in my facial expression of desperation. Desperation…to leave this place. So I can return with the gems…or to not return at all.

"Are you confident that you can match tae enemy well?"

"Of course. Why?"

"Confidence is strength, and I see that in you. You, however, can only see ignorance. Make sure that you are confident, not ignorant. Ignorance…of the enemy, or of anything, for that matter…may seem tae be strength…but it is not. It's what kills you." _Just what I need: A deep statement about myself before I leave. Great…_

"I'll keep it in mind. Thanks," I answer quickly, taking no time to dash off to the north, to complete all of those lies I sold. To get away from the last one who could stop me. Odd…I'm running without pain at all; maybe that's adrenaline from all of that heart beating. But, God…Herdier…might _really_ like George Orwell, if he means that. What Herdier said…"Ignorance is strength," is prevalent in one of Orwell's novels. Only thing is…no Big Brother is going to control me. I am sculpting who I want to become. If I'm doing that…why does Herdier's statement even matter to me?

* * *

**A/N: Well…Nate's had it. He can't think straight anymore because of his newfound anger…and he's going into a dangerous mission blind as a result. I know…that took a very strange turn…but it will be for the better. Things will straighten out in the end. I'm just trying to deepen the plot more; to diversify it from **_**GtI. **_

**I apologize, again, for my extended Fourth of July break. But…I might have to drop the updates to once a week, either Wednesday or Sunday, and either one or two chapters. My life is getting awfully hectic as the school season approaches…so writing is hard to fit in. Do not worry, however: I have every intention in finishing this!**

**Part One of this book is ending soon…a big battle is coming up...and I have broken 1.5k views! Thanks so much for the continued support!**


	15. Redeeming Faith

**A/N: Here's another, _super_ late chapter. I'll try to explain myself at the end. For now: the long awaited chapter 14.**

* * *

Just…argh! Who does that?! I mean, come on! Why would he be so hateful of himself over such an uncontrollable thing as thievery? I don't think it's even right to use anger as fuel to get something as dangerous as that done! But…like I said, I'm _not_ going to a slaughter. He's out for blood and I'm…not! I'm not going to see him do what he did to that Woobat. I'll just go back to my nest…and he'll figure out why not helping himself for once is going to result in nothing from me.

You know what? I'm done. I can't stand Nate and that abstract thinking process of his. In one moment, he's saying I've done nothing wrong. But in another, he completely ignores everything I say…and takes off! That's not friendship!

Tch…I guess that's a human for you, eh? Why in Arceus's name would I befriend such a monstrosity as he? If Nate won't see through that pointless attitude for once…he can leave, for all I care! Maybe that thing was right; humans' hearts are just full with the flames of…rrrgh…why do I get dizzy thinking about that?

Back at the campsite, I'm completely relieved: I don't have too much energy left myself. That Woobat really _did_ take it out of me…but what were those voices? It's been a while since I heard them last in the cave, and continue to grant mercy on my broken mind and heart. Is it possible that they're gone for good? Was it all just conjured up by me? Were those visions just that; visions? Well…maybe not the last part…they were just so _real_, too real to be a dream! Kind of like…what Nate's going through? But how is that even possible?! It's not!

Was it when Nate caressed me back in the cavern out of care…or is it because he's gone, that cured me of my problems? What does this all mean? …it means…

I'm tired. I can't reason like this, much less even try to fathom out an answer to the question. And…almost like magic, I'm on top of my straw and feather nest. _Well…if nobody needs me…_

A second after the thought, I quickly curl up and nestle into the nest. Once I completely settle in, I'm able to see Nate's unoccupied nest: Just a mess of dry grass and feathers that I had collected yesterday. His cryptic writing remains almost undisturbed, with a few leaves of the parchment scattered away a little from the gentle wind...but it remains, hiding his secrets in the script, I'm sure. Arceus...how ethereal is it for him to be _here_, eh? Makes me wish that I knew more about his kind, other than what that imagination told me. I guess _part_ of it is true, but...oh, I don't know anymore!

Does Nate actually have such a heart if he means it by saying that he's not from here? Why am I doubting this; of course he's not from here! It's all in that writing there! ...am I being too harsh to him? No, no...it's his problem, not mine. But...I do wonder what he was like back home. Does he even _have_ a home? If not...well...I guess I can relate.

But, has he ever felt anger before? Does he even know how to communicate with..._something_...like me? Is that why Nate's so brash about this all of the sudden? I guess it isn't all my fault, but now when I reflect, it's just...

I'm over-thinking again! Nate isn't that daft to go into something that dangerous in such a foreign environment. He's not that kind of...what is he called again? Anyway, I bet that he's just walking it off. Blowing off some steam, and coming to his senses; I get that. He's clever enough to read my expression...surely he's smart enough to stay away from lethality, right? He's just...too good for those sort of thoughts to corrupt him...

* * *

"S-Snivy? You okay?"

"N-Nate?" Hmm...I must've dozed off there. I've got to get up since he's back...to apologize to him, I guess...but sleep continues to call my name. Ugh...

"Nae. Herdier...from the inn, I suppose." ...oh, that's kinda disappointing. It's weird how my ears were unable to set apart Herdier's scratchy voice from Nate's...strange one. I guess that's my cue to sleep some more...but why _would_ Herdier be here?

"Mmm...should I return at a different—"

"No, no!" I plead in feeble reassurance with my drowsy tone, parting my eyelids and righting myself to a sitting position, facing Herdier. I didn't sleep for too long, then: Streaks of orange sunlight still burst from the horizon. They're not all over the sky, like before...but they continue to lose luminescence, giving up to the inevitable coming of night. Done dazing warily over Herdier's blue-pelted shoulder, I quickly realign my focus onto Herdier, hoping he didn't see my stargazing eyes.

"I-I assumed ye were better...but if not, I—"

"No, I'm fine, really," I quickly cut in. "I'm just...a bit tired from the day's events, that's all." Herdier nods curtly in an initial response.

"Well, alright," Herdier follows, "but I just _had_ tae check on ye. Kecleon was worried sick over ye."

"Kecleon?" I ask, bewildered. I cock my head off to the side to show the expression better. "How does he know?"

"Your friend Axew explained tae whole situation to Kecleon, I reckon," Herdier explains. "And after the theft in the square, I went out tae do some investigating...and he just gushed about how hard of a decision your friend had to make. Split between riches and friends...tae latter is obvious, but..."

"Oh, yeah," I reply lamely, realizing that I forgot about how Nate went into town in order to get those Persim Berries to bring me back. He was the only one who _could_ do that, and he delivered. Only because I know him...on short notice, but nonetheless. Yet _another_ reason why I should forgive him. I guess he could be...trying to prove himself in this new world. That thrashing I gave him this morning probably didn't help...Nate said otherwise, but he hid his disappointment. I can understand that...but why does Nate just...do _this_ after something that he knows he can't control? Is he expecting too much out of himself, or what? I know he probably sees the great need for the shelter of a good house as well as I do, but in the end, that's fairly insignificant. Nate really has nothing to prove but his shaky spirits here...so, still...why? That is, of course, if he is actually going...which I doubt still.

"Aside from checking on ye...I also came to tell you of a more pressing matter," Herdier announces sternly. I shake my head out of thought, and re-focus.

"What's that?" I ask, making eye contact with the Loyal Dog.

"Axew is...in fact...headed tae take on the thief himself."

"Whaaaat?!" I quickly break from my sitting position to an anticipatory upright stance out of the sheer shock of the news. Nate...is doing it now?! He's going to die out there!

"I saw him depart...he seemed extremely spiteful of something...but of what, I dinnae ken..."

"That spite is because of himself!" I exclaim, realizing that my reasoning was true, but in the most horrifying way possible. "He's angry at himself for it, so he's going to settle the score himself!"

"Well, ye'd better be on your way then, no?" Herdier presses urgently, sounding as distressed as I. Well...yeah I'm going to! But will Nate even accept help at this stage? If he's still like before...he's only going to reject it again. Well...I hope an apology works, because this is one heck of a mess he's getting into!

_No...let it be...this world does not need such an entity as..._

Gah! Not..._again!_ Well...that settles it! I _must_ help Nate, no matter what I think, just to prove that I can think for myself, and can fend off such a scourge as..._this!_ But...what I was thinking about before I fell asleep...maybe this world _is_ better off...but wouldn't Nate be better off...out of his misery?

_Yes...send him away...he _does_ have that other world to live in..._

And...that would be better for him, wouldn't it? To be back where he belongs? To be back where...no! Even _if_ he doesn't want it, I can't allow him to die like this! That's almost murder...almost like what happened with him and that Drilbur back at Ragged Mountain! Why am I even allowing this _thing_ in my head to influence me so much?! I'm so foolish; Nate's the only reason why I'm here, and...vice versa! I already know that but...it's so true!

"Snivy? You're...growling..."

I _am_. I'm turning into a beast from the inside, with whatever it is. So many sounds in my mind, so much...fuzziness. Is this even real? Am I dreaming, or am I just...submitting? To this desire to give in to sleep and...

No. Whatever you are, I'll tell you this: Nate is better than just a war-hungry creature. He's delicate, for Arceus's sake! The past may say otherwise...but everything is fine. He _did_ have reason to kill...not to overdo it, but he realizes his own faults. Surely he's forgetting his past...if he even listened to me yesterday, but I must count on that chance. I'm going to be angry at you, Nate...but not so much as to pass the threshold of forgiveness. Forgive and forget...

"You sure you're okay?" Herdier! It's all coming back to me; this _is_ too real to be a dream! At least the voices are going away, now returning focus to Herdier for the fifth time. They're gone and...ah! I'm so..._dizzy!_ Did I get hit by another Confusion, or...what? I..._lost_ my train of thought?! Is this the _actual_ confusion?

"Y-yes, uh-I—" I manage out before feeling my weight drop violently down and forward. I quickly catch myself with my vines to prevent myself from completely falling flat on the dirt. I carefully bring myself back to a normal stand, supported by the over-matched vines...and see the top of my vision whirl in a mix of blank black and twilight lavender.

"I'm fine, r-really," I try again as I right myself, making shaky eye contact to prove my words, "it'll pass in a moment; it's happened before. But...you know...Psychic-type attacks _are_ known to produce such after-effects as this..." ...I've never heard my own voice so slurred...in my _life! _So I add a shrug, adding intrigue to the comment, in an attempt to sell the ill fact that I'm normal.

"From what I've read, they do tend to seem tricky," Herdier agrees, nodding slightly with a slight look of concern...I think. If only this sudden onslaught of double vision would just leave me be...

"So, he's headed off tae Hazy Pass in pursuit," Herdier continues normally. "Do ye reckon—"

"Ah! I know where that is!" Recollecting that one, once-buy-able section of land that I passed up a while back in my search for land, somehow alleviates the dual-sight, albeit slightly. Strangely, I manage to recall the directions to the place through the thick sludge of confusion that impedes reason and judgment. I even remember the right crossroad to take! Feeling eager to stop Nate...and to get away from the ever-caring Herdier...I attempt to make a start, with vines still drawn, in case of a loss of footing. I lose it almost immediately; my lagging feet don't even follow my movement command, causing me to stumble forward again. I catch myself with the vines _again_...and finding my feet, I walk up to a normal gait...save some abrupt sideways movements. I pass by Herdier, who looks absolutely dumbfounded; likely from my unprecedented actions.

"Uh...ye sure about this?" Herdier asks, not making a move to follow.

"I can't just..._desert_ him; I'm his friend," I answer, half to Herdier and half to myself. I try to right my miserable, teetering walk...only to improve marginally. _If Nate can seem to power through everything...why can't I?_

"Ye sure you're—"

"I'm fine, okay?" I reply to his confirming redundancy, trying to move faster towards Hazy Pass.

"If ye say so..." he replies, sounding like he has turned his attention to something at the campsite. I don't know what would cause him to shift attention...but I've got much bigger problems to worry about here. Like proving this..._thing_ inside of me wrong by saving Nate. Now...if only this confusion would go away...

* * *

Finally; the crossroads! It seemed like forever, but...here I am! At least the confusion died off like normal, but...huh? There's something inscribed in the _ground_ here...

...it's stating directions to Hazy Pass! This is to Nate, but...who chose _that_ name? Messenger of Arceus; a mythical namesake? Nice try with the name...but it's in runic, so Nate wouldn't be able to read _any_ of this. He can only read that other language...English, I think it's called. But, wait...the _Timburr_ wrote this up? The same two that accompanied Gurdurr back at the inn? Why would they need to get involved in this? Heck, why would they even _want_ to be involved in such a dangerous situation in the first place?

_Don't lose focus! That's not the point, Snivy!_ I bitterly coach myself. To re-emphasize, I kick the message out of existence, leaving only regular brown dust behind. Not spending any more precious time, knowing what waning sunlight I have is disappearing quickly, I dash north as fast as I can. I just hope I can make it in time. If I'm too late…oh, Arceus…I don't even want to know! It _may_ be a slaughter…only on the wrong end!

* * *

It's a dusty scape; dirt brown amongst the darkness of what is the late evening light. Upon clearing the obscuring treeline, I can see the darkened cliff side of the bluff staggering upward towards the silvery feather of what is the moon. Shaft entrances gape here and there on several levels of the Pass's bluff, but some levels are hidden from view entirely from how high up the pseudo-mountainous structure stretches. With those openings everywhere, I'm probably going to have to head inside, clearing each one until I reach a new level, and ultimately, the target. But that doesn't come without difficulty…it's another task involving passing through extremely hostile territory, where everything there is out to see to your untimely demise. Against that, I've only got myself and the wonderful, red-hot adrenaline, streaming through my system like formula cars. But I have no way to tell when it will stop; I could go for a couple more hours or just a few minutes. Quite possibly the latter…my heart is circulating my blood so quickly in the way that it pulses rapidly, that I might use it all for nothing. Then, I would collapse from the non-quartered wrath of fatigue; maybe like how Snivy did this afternoon. However, this is no time for idle thinking. This is the time for action, in order to properly expend the new found energy.

I must do this, to see whether or not if I should even belong in such a dangerous realm. I'm better off gone than alive if I can't even protect myself properly against enemies with actual brains. Heck, I'm better off gone if I can't even complete simple tasks. Better off than being with her…either I do this and prove my place in this world, or die righteously. Even if I do it though…what _am_ I going to do about Snivy? …well, nothing, I guess. Just leave her to her own thoughts about how she screwed up. That's the worst punishment possible…I know from personal experience that the aspect of taunting memories and thoughts are the worst thing you could have.

My body erupts into a delirium of shivers as I confront the initial opening of the Pass. It's striking resemblance to what a real world mineshaft would look like is spectacular; there's wooden frames bordering the sides and top of the entrance, in the shape of a near-complete rectangle. Even the angles of the junctions between the wood blocks almost seem too perfect to be of this world; flawless ninety degree angles, without a doubt! It's…amazing how creatures as primitive as these can understand how to make such a structure (the concept of it, obviously, wouldn't be understood) as neat as this. But…that's besides the fact that this is a hostile environment. I'm not sure how human instinct alone could allow me to pass this unharmed…but I'm not a human anymore. Or am I? Which one is it? I can't quite possibly be a hybrid; I'm too lopsided as a human, but…I _look_ like a Pokémon. Which one is it? Should I ignore one truth and go with another, or is one false? _If_ I ignore one, would that be ignorance of who I am?

Maybe Herdier was right. This _is_ a hopeless mission, fueled by ignorance of the daunting task ahead. But if I deny my anger of myself, wouldn't that be ignorance of myself? That feeling of intense emotion, one that can cause myself to attempt something as far fetched as this, is my human trait, among many others. And Snivy…she told me to cast it away like it was only an abstract, false image of me. It's not. That is me: Anger, sadness, pain. Even if I accept help for my emotional problem, wouldn't that essentially turn me into one of _them?_ But…is that necessarily a bad thing? If my inability to live in this world comes from my obsessed thought process of having to help the ones I care about…and being unable to do so…it wouldn't be too bad to be alleviated of such a thing. That _is_ the reason why I'm doing this, because I can't make myself useful enough to save my life. Again, though…what would happen to me if I just merged with their kind? Will I…lose sight of who I actually am, even if I can't even conceive the answer to that? Sure, I need to lose this bad attitude towards my life, both old and new, but…I don't _want_ to be one of them. Sometimes I feel the only thing that sets me apart from these things are my darkness and my human attributes. Yet the attributes are so un-impactful; sure I _look_ different, but it wouldn't matter if I acted like everything else. If I lose the darkness…I lose who I am. If I get rid of the darkness, it's ignorance. And ignorance is always bad. But I'm not a human! My skin is green, for God's sake! I mean…I can't ignore that!

Ah, forget philosophy. At the end of the day…someone has got to get those gems. Doesn't matter if I go alone either; my life is insignificant when I'm here. Because…she _lied_ to me. I expected everything…and got less than what I had to start with. The story of my life, right there. Since it's like that...it's redemption of myself, or the last event of my sad life. Either way, it ends. Either way…I win.

"_And Snivy…it's amazing how I'm in this maze with you, but I…can't crack your code. One day you're saying, "You need me now," but the next day you're so cold. One day you're here…one day you're there...one day you care…it's just not…fair…"_ Did I…just do that? Yeah; that's my echo against the tempered rock of the mountainous structure. Why would I even say that…much more, _sing_ it?

Of all of the songs I know…I model that thought off of Justin Timberlake's hook…doesn't make sense why (the song isn't even about this situation at all), but it felt right. Sometimes I just do that at home too; break into a quiet sing-song, remodeling the lyrics to how I feel. It makes me feel better sometimes…but not this time. Man, I almost forgot about how important music is to me…it _was_ the only class I enjoyed in school before this mess happened. Not to mention all of the English trick used in it, too…that this world might miss when I'm gone. Maybe not…but whatever.

Although I don't feel any better emotionally, I feel…invigorated from that, for some reason. Feeling some courage flow back to my dead spirits, I step into the shadows, sealing my uncertain fate. Yet this isn't a room…it's just a steeply inclined corridor, rolling up directly to the next level. It's doesn't look like the mineshaft that I had in mind earlier…but it's definitely not one of those caves that I've been getting used to as of late. Something could still try to jump me here, despite the rather cramped size; Joltiks come to mind almost immediately. But I _do_ still have these age-old blood stains plastering my rough skin, and the dry area of what are these…rock tunnels in Hazy Pass, looks awfully un-supportive of life in general. There's no water anywhere…but who _knows_ what Pokémon drink? I wait five minutes…and nothing jumps out. I place my arm against the rock wall…only to find no hungry Joltiks. With these observations, I rule out the once-thought high risk of feral Pokémon roaming around the corridor, and continue the quest.

This slope certainly isn't a sheer wall of limestone…nor is it a pushover, either! The greatly rarefied incline is unsettling to my legs…but at least my original panic is ebbing away, drastically lowering my heart rate. Hopefully, that will allow for the adrenaline to stay in place longer, letting it carry me to the crystals, even through a battle, if I need! These suddenly high spirits might also add to the adrenaline's effect as well! Because, no matter what, I'll succeed!

* * *

As predicted, _nothing_ comes out from the dark stone hall aiming to kill me. With no interference whatsoever, I make my way up to the next level in only five short minutes. Feeling good, I zip through the exit onto the promoted level's rock surface. And…whoa! A sheer drop! Seeing that, I immediately stop my momentum, lest I careen off the edge!

There's actually a pretty good view from up here, even though I haven't gone too far up the bluff. Darkness is quickly taking over the area of Post Town. As dark as it is, I can even see Snivy's vast expanse of dry land. However, a large object of some sort, un-distinguishable due to the low light, obscures most of the land, but not enough to where I'm unable to ID the place. But, if I can see it from up here…then Snivy's land must be _huge!_ How much did she pay for it again? I guess she never said, but lucky for her! But…how far up am I, anyway?

I slowly and carefully span the five feet of bare rock from the last shaft's entrance to take a look down. I drop my head to scan the ground below, and…wait, I _skipped_ a level? Another ledge juts out from the face of the bluff, blocking the direct downward view of the ground, and thus, the entrance to the bluff. So I've gone higher than expected…interesting. I guess I'm more on my way than I thought I would be now!

Suddenly, a figure breaks from the treeline surrounding the premises of the dry Pass, from the same heading I took. The abrupt, quick motion of the individual shocks my eyesight upward into examining what exactly _is_ coming in. And, even from this distance, even through the darkness, I can see…is that…Snivy?! No way!

* * *

I'm here! It felt like it took forever to sprint all the way here, but I think I made it in a record-setting time! I guess that doesn't really mean anything great to me…but I do need to stop Nate before absolute night sets in. Axew _do_ have a naturally better eyesight than us Snivy, but he's not exactly an Axew, either. He's got human eyes, I suppose…but how well do humans see in the dark? I've got so many questions…but they still don't matter. What matters is bringing Nate back to his senses…as long as I can find him in time!

Feeling the ground below me turn from a gritty dirt-and-sand combo turn into a more silty texture doesn't even squander a change of pace from me. Now's not the time to focus on such a minute matter as scenery. I'm at the…dark shaft, with shadows so enveloping inside, hiding…Woobat?! No! No, no, no…_no!_ _There's _no_ time for cowering, Snivy!_

As much as I don't want to…I must! I left my cowardice back at Ragged Mountain after I left Nate for dead back there! I _deserved_ his berating! And besides, I was just being an idiot using my vines like I did. I should have just aborted the Vine Whip and should have broken into a Tackle to shorten my recovery time against such a fast opponent. But…I can do this. I just need to look at the task differently and…huh? A shower of…gravel?

The sudden pelting of my head by tiny rocks demands my attention to be thrown upward, and instinctively, I do so. But…all I see is the bluff's dark shelf of solid stone, slanting up and away from me, possibly concealing a ledge above. I forgot; Hazy Pass _is_ a semi-mountain of sorts, but the dangerous areas with possible enemy contact are few and far in between. It's a stepped sort of structure, though…so there is still the moderate risk of walking off of a cliff.

Anyway…I didn't imagine that gravel. Something had to have upset the rocks; the wind is awfully dead tonight, so it must've been a Pokémon or something.

Feeling the urge to investigate, I back away from the wood-bordered entrance to see if the cause of the earthen shower is still there, up above. I get several paces away from the entrance, enough to see that the first-level ledge is empty, while the second ledge, while mostly obscured by my poor angling, seems empty as well. Well…maybe I _am_ imagining things again. Oh well; regardless, I still have a big job to do. I still don't know exactly why he would do this: This Pass is notorious for a criminal hideout; taking on something like this alone is a feat that not even the most seasoned explorer should perform alone. I can only imagine what's going through his mind. If only I could fully understand who he is…then this may never have occurred in the first place. I _guess_ that I get how he feels…but something tells me that he's not telling me something. I guess I'm guilty of that myself sometimes. But now is now…and Nate is, in fact, taking on Hazy Pass. I guess it wasn't _all_ my fault, but…

Regardless, I _will_ do this. Maybe…maybe the blood that's still on him is still keeping everything away. Or there might not be anything here at all! Well…I guess that's all I've got to pin my hopes to but…I'm going to do this. This is crazy, but…I feel…fearless of what lies ahead! Just get out of my way; I've got better things to deal with!

* * *

Ten minutes have passed, at least…and I've conquered two more steep shafts, giving me more and more advance on my goal. The shafts, all of which were extremely similar in structure, with nearly the same incline gradient each time, were easily passable. No interference, no Pokémon…nothing. I guess that's strange, but I _do_ have all of this dried blood on me. Even though most of it has chipped off, I'm sure, nothing dares to challenge me…or there's just nothing here.

Up here on the fourth level of the expanse, I find myself on a relatively small ledge compared to the ledges previous. It's at least the size of my bedroom, at most, made of the same sandstone as all the other exterior areas, barring the ground level. I'm definitely not going to look down now; I wager that I'm high enough that, if I were to look over the edge, I'd get vertigo. As a matter of fact, I haven't moved since exiting the last shaft exit. I'm resting my legs just a little…but I should be on my way soon; it's getting so dark that this boulder that I rest against is starting to lose its red color, ceding to a blank color of black. No longer can I…hmm?

A slight glow of cobalt, just bright enough to catch my eye, is outstanding on the murky ground, catching what is…left of the sun; like that cave! That's a gem, no doubt! I guess the criminal can't be too far away now…but still, I've got no idea where that location would be. And I won't be able to search for in-depth clues, either. The ones that would really be pivotal are probably hidden by the cloak of night now; I doubt that even my improved vision would be able to pick out such minute details. _But_…that gem is as good of a clue as any…

I take a step forward, exposing my right side from the cover of the boulder I once rested against. I square myself to the gem, and bend over to snatch it, for good measure. _Well…if I just find four more like this, I won't have to—_ "_Hmph!_"

I've…been _found!_ Something…tackled me to the ground, driving me forward onto the stone floor! It's got a heavy hold on my once-mangled left scapula, keeping me in place. I struggle, only to feel the pain of the baton rounds return…so I give up the feeble attempt to free myself.

"Well…who in Arceus's name would dare to come out to a place as…_formidable_, as this?" I hear a dark voice snarl above me. _You wouldn't understand!_ I personally reply…but I don't actually speak, so as to not risk angering the sudden foe. Clearly, it has enough comprehension to actually speak to me; could _this_ be the thief? I'm not going to do anything to anger it, then: Just keep belly-down on rock…and don't speak! I'm in a fair amount of trouble here…but, considering the two sides of the mission, am I _really_ in danger?

"Hm! What a pathetic name to a brave Axew like you! You're called a messenger, yet you won't even speak?! Ha!" Wait…did it read the—oh, no! _The Timburr!_ They came here to apprehend the thief, and must've been com_pppuhh_—_gg-grrr! _A _slam_ to the…_base_ of my neck…ah...! I'm…_tunneling out…rrgh…_

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**A/N: I am extremely sorry for my absence. But, since school is starting over here in less than two weeks, my mom, who is unfortunately a teacher, re-claimed her work laptop…the only computer I really had to edit on. After that, my parents bought me a car to commute to school, and I've been stuck up with tasks to take my brother places, ice hockey, and…gosh, a lot of stuff. I guess you can say life happened to me there…but I'll try to post more regularly from now on, as I have finally gotten the sense to buy myself my own laptop, both for school and FFN purposes. And…as you can see…the story, currently, is taking a turn for the worse (or the best?), so I'll definitely be eager to write up more of the chapter by hand. **

**I can say for certain that the current part _will end_ after the next chapter. This _may_ mean a 10k+ word chapter…but for good reason. After the part ends, I will hold off posting part two for a while, and post "paralogues" in its stead as I figure out what exactly to write for part two…as well as how to write it up, to keep you guys interested.**

**As if I haven't thanked all the followers of this story enough…I'm going to say thanks again for the excellent support, and for getting me to 2k views. You guys are awesome! **

**I'm thinking of doing an OC thing soon…would you guys mind? Respond with a review! Also: Is there anything in the story that you are having a problem with so far? Review! It's there so I can conform to the fans' interests! Help me help you!**

**As for the chapter…it really is the calm before the storm. Snivy essentially has her sympathetic impulse override her unnatural anger towards Nate, sending her in support. Nate, on the other hand, might actually have second thoughts about the whole "mission," as he reasons in circles, possibly figuring out that his depression isn't in the new world…but he still has problems with that word named "ignorance." It's my best best approach to a short, simple concept in philosophy…or something like that. Anyway…the big confrontation is _next chapter_, fitting for the part one finale. Otherwise...sorry for how filler-ish this chapter seemed, if you guys felt it to be that way.**

**I'll try to get the next one done sooner; I swear. Like I said earlier, it may take a bit longer because of the possible big word count, but it will happen earlier than when this one came! Thanks for hanging in to the end of the part!**

**And…if anyone really wants to know…this story isn't close to being done. That's not even because of the length of _GTI_...like I said, I'm going to diversify this version greatly, so it'll be an epic in terms of length. I hope it'll end sooner, but we'll see. Until next time!**

**P.S.: High-five if you got the song reference!**


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